


Defector

by pau93



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4674776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pau93/pseuds/pau93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt is a journalist who is in the middle of the most important investigation of his career. Due to his intensive research, he has become a dull and empty person, whose aim is to fathom what lies beneath one of the most powerful corporations of the world.<br/>In addition to that, despite his messy life and his complicated relationship, the return of his best friend, Dominic, who has been away and out of touch for two years, leaves him confused and completely astonished. Although he tries to fight this feeling, deep inside, Matt is damn sure there’s something odd about his friend and his abrupt arrival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapters 0 and 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story! I'm a bit nervous about it, but I've finally decided to post it in here. I hope you like it :)

_Ten nights. No more, no less. Just ten nights._

***

**Zero**

“Matt?” I hear her soft voice coming from the bedroom across the hallway like a subtle murmur, but that doesn’t mean I’m listening. In fact, I’m too lost in my own thoughts to pay attention to my girlfriend, who probably woke up feeling that I wasn’t sleeping by her side anymore.

The truth is that I wasn’t feeling sleepy at all. But that was a few hours ago, right after we had dinner, took a shower and made love. After hearing Elle’s peaceful breathing next to me, I realised I wasn’t going to give up my thoughts and sleep too. I needed to keep on working, I couldn’t just stop now. Especially not now.

And, because of that, I got up and shuffled back to my office. I still have no clue why I call it “office”. It just a little old room filled with papers and previous works of mine. All of them are strictly categorised under labels and stocked in giant boxes in shelves all around the room like ancient trophies.

I remember the first time I showed my “office” to Elle. Her angelic face was priceless, as if I was showing her an old archive filled with papyrus. But she wasn’t that interested in my collection; in fact, what she desired the most was to corner me against the working table and asphyxiate me with sweet kisses and moans.

I let out a smile as I remember that particular moment and I take a moment to sip my coffee. It’s cold and I certainly do not enjoy it, but I finish it anyways before my fingers once again move graciously across the keyboard as if I were some sort of musician rather than a journalist. 

I can’t recall the last time I checked the clock, but when I finally do it and I see the fluorescent green numbers, I let out a yawn and, then, I sprawl on my comfy chair feeling too tired to move beyond that.

Two fucking am? Where did the time go? I wonder, completely astonished as I gaze the screen of my laptop and read the new title: “Ghost corporations.” It sounds a bit funny, as if I’m trying to joke; but, actually, it’s not a bloody joke. Oh, how I wish it was.  
The name, thought it may seem funny, is the closest term I could come up with and it matches perfectly its description.

In my head, all the information runs free from one corner to the other without any control. It’s such a mess up there all the time. Where to start? I always wonder before start typing. I mean, there’s so much to say about this that I can’t even decide whether to start by the simplest or the most complex aspects.

This piece of work might be my fucking death penalty, may be the gun against my temple but fuck it; I could not care less about it. I’m a determined person and I’m determined to end this damn project. I know I have to carry on with it till the end. I will unveil their true purposes and everybody will finally know their true actions behind charity and assistance.

I begin writing a brief introduction to this new term in my article. What are ghost corporations? Why do they exist? Why is this even related to my work? And so on. Although my intention is to finish this new paragraph, Elle’s hands appear on my chest suddenly and stop me for a bit.

For a moment, that strange feeling of a déjà vu overcomes me, but I ignore it as I am already accustomed to this. Usually, I tend to be so immersed in my article that I hardly ever hear her come in to my office. This, sadly, has been happening a lot.

“Hi,” I murmur turning my head a bit so at least I can see her sleepy smile.

Elle kisses my cheek and keeps on caressing me.

“It’s so late and you are still here working on this thing…” she starts with a seductive tone. “Why won’t you come with me?” She whispers in my ear before giving it a naughty bite.

I let out a little laugh and caress her hands, still on my chest.

“I’m sorry, darling. But this is important.” Although I do want to go with her, I need to end it. I need to put a closure to this matter as soon as I can.

Elle stops kissing me for a moment and frowns, not amused at all.

“I’m important too, am I not?” She asks, a bit upset, moving her hands away from my body.

I really miss her warm and feminine touch. She has been so good to me, and so intense, too. Although I’m not a very expressive guy, or at least I’m not now, she knows I love her and she also knows I’m grateful to have her by my side.

This time, I turn round to look at her properly and when I see her sad expression, I know I can’t say no to my darling. She has been here for quite some time and hasn’t complained about my work. Who am I to refuse such an offer? Besides, the paper isn’t going anywhere…

Elle lets out a smile when she sees me saving the file and standing up to join her.

“Lead the way,” I murmur, trying to lure her.

She laughs and takes my face between her hands and kisses me roughly, as if someone were to drift us apart forever. She starts biting my lip, tempting me, and, as a matter of fact, in this precise moment, I really feel like sinning a bit with her. Fuck, yes!

I lift her up, grabbing her by the back of her legs, and, between kisses and little laughs, I take her back into the bedroom. We leave the office and go across the dark hallway and her mouth still hasn’t left mine yet, thank God.

When I let her fall on the mattress, I realise she is wearing that little gown I bought her a few weeks ago. I was so focused on my matters that I haven’t even paid attention to that cute detail. When I saw it in the store, I knew it was for her, I just knew it. I could even saw her wearing it before buying it.

She says something, but I can’t hear her; my mind is in another place at this moment. I’m wondering how it is that a girl like Elle can like me, or even love me. While she starts undressing herself in a very provocative way, I wonder how is that she hasn’t run away yet.

She is so different from me in all senses… she is still so young, fresh and happy. Her life has just begun; she has all the options ahead. Why someone so perfect would want to be besides me?

“Are you still with me?” She asks while teasing me a bit through my trousers.

I fall back on Earth again and when I feel her warm touch against the fabric, I let out a slight moan and nod. Elle smiles and starts undoing my trousers very slowly, taking her time.

The way her pale cheeks turn red and her blue eyes shine… Fucking God have mercy on me. If someone saw her, they would know what I’m talking about. That sight just drives me fucking nuts.

“Fuck, of course, darling,” I murmur as I lie down on top of her and smile widely. I start to kiss her neck while she keeps undressing me in a rush. “How fucking eager,” I manage to say between pants and moans.

She loves to tease me and so she does. Slowly, her hand finds my crotch and gives me a hard squeeze down there, making me scream out in ecstasy.

“I thought you knew me better,” she jokes after digging her nails in my thigh, turning me on so much that I being to sweat. “I’m always eager,” she adds biting her lower lip as she lets go her grip.

I let out a laugh and cup her cheeks with my hands.

“I love you, darling” I murmur against her mouth and I kiss her passionately.

Elle moans and accepts the kiss, turning it into a fierce one. Her tongue brushes against my lips and starts exploring my entire mouth. A few moments later, our bodies roll on the mattress and our moans fill the room and I can’t help thinking again that I’m lucky as hell. Why am I so fucking lucky? Do I even deserve this?

After our rough but passionate encounter, she falls asleep next to me, with her arm resting on my bare chest. I look at her and I smile. Her blonde hair is a mess and her whole body is covered in sweat, like mine, but she looks too damn well like that. I wish I could stay forever between these sheets but the alarms in my mind begin to sound.

Work time.

Isn’t it always time for work? Haven’t I done that for the past couple of days? This is madness, but it’s my fucking life too. Feeling like a completely jerk, I slowly leave my place next to my sleeping girlfriend and start seeking my clothes across the dark room.

After I have dressed, I turn to look at Elle, but she hasn’t woken up and I’m lucky for that, because I don’t want to quarrel for this particular matter again. Quietly, I close the door this time in order not to wake her again with the tapping sound of the keys and I leave the bedroom.

The office awaits. The article awaits again.

 

**One**

The barman, a young man called Henry, gives me the bottle of beer and I pay him as I watch my girlfriend staring at her pink drink with wide eyes. This particular image makes me want to laugh, but I contain myself. That Henry guy seems amused by this too, but another customer calls him and he soon forgets about us and goes away.

While Elle murmurs something I don’t even hear, my eyes wander around the place, trying to get accustomed to it; but this bar is new in town and I don’t usually feel very comfortable at these new and crowded places; however, as Elle has put it before: “I have to be more daring, like I am with my job.”

I want to please her as much as I can, so that is why I said yes when she asked me out. My younger girlfriend asking me out on a fucking date. Shouldn’t it be the other way round? My head doesn’t work properly, I’m sure of that; but, if I’m not wrong, that is what enthralls Elle. I’m nothing like her classmates, I think I’m nothing like she has ever seen before.

“I can’t believe Mr. I-work-too-much-to-have-fun has finally agreed to go out and, actually, have fun for once,” Elle laughs at me and sips her pink drink with a sheepishly smirk.

“Ha, ha,” I mutter while giving her a funny look. I melt when her icy-blue eyes look at mine so deeply. God, I love this girl so fucking much. Why the hell can’t I be more present in her life? I wonder as I stare at her oddly. “You’re lucky you are cute, missy,” I threaten her with a smile before drinking my beer.

Elle laughs and dances a bit in her place. The place is nice and the music is not that bad. It may be not my favourite kind, but it’s something. The people around also seem to like it as well. Although I try, I don’t recognise the singer, whose voice is low and alluring, but my girlfriend seems to know the lyrics, because she is singing it like there’s no tomorrow.

Naturally, she is a bit drunk by now, since it’s the second cosmo she has had after one or two shots; but I kind of enjoy watching her laugh and smile like that. In fact, I envy her a little bit: she is living her best years among her friends and her family. She’s lucky and I’m fucking lucky to have such a radiant person in my life now.

I kiss her temple as she finishes her drink abruptly, soaking her white dress a bit and my black shirt, but that’s fine; I don’t care about it. I hug her for a while and when I start to drift away to place the empty bottle in the bar, she turns and looks at me deeply as if I had just committed a crime.

“Don’t you dare move, Matthew,” she slurred an angry protest.

It’s funny and creepy at the same time, but I choose to frown and maintain our closeness.

“Why?” I defy her with a pleasing look, trying to outsmart her. However, what she does next takes my breath away and leaves me petrified in my place.

She leans even closer to me and kisses my ear before saying the following:

“Because otherwise you will regret it later,” she whispers as she hides her right hand between our bodies and starts descending it with a wicked smile on her lips.

I bit my own lips when I feel her soft hand against my groin caressing me through the fabric of my jeans.

“Elle, we are in a public place full of people,” I whisper trying to stop her but, instead of that, she starts stroking me merciless, still with that evil and lustful expression.

Suddenly, I start to pant and I close my hands in tight fists in order to control myself. She is gonna be the death of me someday…

“So?” She asks still amused by my reactions.

I swallow heavily and regain control of myself, but my fucking body can’t win. It’s even embarrassing how weak I am when it comes to Elle; but, somehow, we both love it. When she starts noticing how tight my trousers have become, she lets out a smirk. How I adore that diabolical little smirk…

“So it’s rude, darling. People are not concerned with our…” I begin to say but I stray in the end. I think about the correct term (oh, how I love correct terms) and, then, I conclude: “…little situation down here,” I manage to say after a soft moan escapes my mouth rather abruptly.

My poor attempt to undermine her makes her laugh. She knows she’s in control and she loves that and I love it, too. If I thought I could prevent her from teasing me more, I was so fucking wrong. Oh, God, how wrong I was.

Her little hand makes her way down and finds the zip and plays with it for a couple of seconds. This time I choose not to say a thing. Why would I even bother on it? It would be to no avail, it would be purposeless; and, as a matter of fact, I fucking love what she is doing.

Some people overhear our discussion and, impressed by our depravation, turn round to look at us and give us angry looks before leaving their seats next to us, emitting disgusted and annoyed noises.

I cock an eyebrow at my girlfriend, who suddenly stops her ministrations for a bit to look at the people who have just left.

“See?” I scold her as we both watch the strangers moving away from us.

Then, when they get lost among other people, I finally turn to see my girlfriend, who is trying to contain her laugh. Oh bugger, I was hoping she had learnt the lesson, but, fortunately to me, she didn’t. And she wouldn’t.

“I don’t care,” she laughs as she corners me even more against the bar and unzips my pants. When did she become so fucking horny? Was it before or after I’ve started with my project? If I just could recall… “I want to go home right now and I want you to fuck me,” she says with a daring tone, drawing unwanted attention from other people around us.

Still feeling the pressure of her hands against my groin, I try to control the pleasure that has overcome me and I look at her with mixed feelings: I am surprised, yes; but I’m also horny as hell and I do want to take her home and, as she puts it, fuck her.

However, before I can even open my mouth, I hear someone behind me calling my name.

“Matt?”

I know this voice. I know his voice; it stands out in that place crowded with people. I can recognize it and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I just can’t believe it’s him. He was gone to who-knows-where and it’s been so long that I have even acknowledged the fact that I wasn’t going to hear from him ever again.

Forgetting about Elle and her incredibly expert hands on my aching body, I turn my head round and I look at the man in front of us. And God, he has changed: his hair used to be blond like honey but now it’s pitch black; his skin used to be tanned and now its pale as fuck. God, is he a ghost or something?

For a moment, that fact gets me very confused and I even start to believe that I have made up the voice of my best friend and that I have just stared at a complete stranger.

However, when our gazes meet, I know it’s him. I just know it. I look at him for a couple of seconds and, then, I dare to talk.

“Dominic?” I ask, astonished and confused, with my lips trembling. He nods, confirming my doubts. Oh. My. Fucking. God. It’s really him and I’m not crazy enough to make his voice up yet. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were away.” My words escape my mouth as I take a step away from my very confused girlfriend, who is watching the whole situation as she zips back my trousers and pulls her hand away.

His arrival has caught me off guard and it feels like someone has thrown a fucking bucket of cold water all over me.

It seems that Dom realises about Elle’s presence and also about our “little situation” and, with that charming smile he has, he nods in her direction.

“I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Dom, Matt’s friend,” he says with a warm smile that captivates everyone.

This can’t be happening. This must be a fucking dream or whatever. How is that he appears in the same bar at the same time the same night as I do? Something is up and I don’t know what to think.

The tension in the air dissipates a bit and Elle smiles and looks at me very surprised.

“Hey, I remember Matt mentioning you sometimes. I’m Elle, by the way. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Dom,” she introduces herself in a very polite way. Wasn’t she just drunk? What the fuck is happening?

Dominic gives me a very fast gaze, but he focuses on Elle again, almost forgetting about me and my astonished expression.

“Oh, yes,” Dom says looking at my smiling girlfriend. He has always had that effect on women, the bastard. “He also mentioned you. I remember Matt saying something about you. However, I think that you had just met him at that time, just before my trip,” he explains getting closer to us.

Elle doesn’t even bother to ask me anything, she just continues talking to the newcomer as if they were best friends.

“You went away on a trip?” She asks a little too excited for my liking.

Dom falls silent for a little while, pondering about the right answer. I take this little moment to gather my thoughts and look for an explanation. I know it sounds ridiculous, even stupid. Why couldn’t the guy just return home from this long trip and go to a bar and have fun? Yeah, sounds perfectly normal.

But… I just can’t explain it so easily. I stare at him trying to find out the answers but his expression doesn’t give me shit. I’m still clueless about this entire situation.

“Yeah,” he finally answers with a confident smile. But something is out of place, I can sense it.

“That is wonderful!” Elle smiles, happily.

That answer doesn’t please me. I need more. It’s been so long since we last saw each other. How is that he didn’t even text me to say he was in London? When did he arrive? Who else knows about his homecoming? Does Chris know? Tom? His family? What did he do all this time? Where did he go?

Too many questions and too little time. Finally, I decide for the easiest of all, I think.

“Where have you been, man?” I ask, still astonished. I’m thrilled to see him, please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m just very confused.

Dom’s eyes land on mine this time and, for just a little moment, I think I see something almost wrong in them, but I must have imagined it; because his flashing smile enthralls me all over again.

“Travelling.” His answer is short and simple. Way too simple.

Again, his answer doesn’t please me. I try to sound fine, but my voice gives me away. I can’t handle this… two fucking years. The guy hasn’t even spoken a word to me. Not even a damn “hi” during his damn trip. How is that he appears from nowhere and acts as if nothing has happened?

“Could you be a little more specific?” I add feeling a little bit overwhelmed.

Dom ponders about his answer again. Where have you been, Dom? What have you been doing? Who have you met?

“Well, I’ve been to America,” he replies trying to please me, and, although he does answer me, I don’t feel better about it. There’s more to it than meets the eye here.

Elle almost jumps at my side and re-enters the conversation.

“Really? I’ve always wanted to go there!” Elle almost yells; her eyes shining.

Dom offers her a kind smile and nods and, then, he turns to look at my still confused expression. For the first time in the night, he seems to realise the awkwardness of the situation. His charming self disappears for a moment, and I see his expression darkening a bit.

I don’t know what he is about to say, but I want to hear all about it. I fucking need to know about it now.

“I know it’s been a while, mate. I’m sorry I wasn’t in touch with you all this time,” Dom finally whispers, fleeing my gaze, embarrassed.

I open my mouth, but I end closing it a few seconds later. How can he just come, pretending that everything is all right and then throw me a bomb like that? I take a deep breath and, after a moment of awkward silence, I decide to hit him where it fucking hurts.

“Dom, you disappeared for like two years,” I begin. He isn’t the only one armed tonight. “You were just… gone. You didn’t call. Not even wrote a single message to anyone. It was like you were… dead,” I concluded feeling a bit overdramatic, but as I watch his sad expression, I know I have taken the right decision.

“Don’t be so harsh, love,” Elle murmurs, but I ignore her.

Dom must know that things are not as they used to be.

“I know, Matt, I know that and I’m terrible sorry. Just let me…” he starts apologizing, but something gets in the way: a very annoying melody that almost makes my ears bleed.

What the fuck is that?

His phone, of course, it is his fucking phone.

The three of us look down at his phone when he takes it out of his pocket with a concerned look. Elle gets closer to him and she doesn’t hesitate when she leans over to read the name in the little screen.

“Who is Koroskov?” She asks, intrigued as the Russian name almost flashes in the vibrating phone.

Dom first looks at the screen and, then, he glances at me, as if he was waiting for me to add something.

I have no fucking idea of what’s going on so I just remain silent watching that Koros-whatever guy’s name flashing insistently.

“A friend,” he answers while looking at the screen again.

This is beyond me. It seems that he has made new… acquaintances throughout his everlasting journey through “America”.

“You have a Russian friend?” I frown completely lost as Dom accepts the call and takes a few steps away from us to speak to the so-called Koroskov.

I squint a bit and prepare myself to eavesdrop their conversation. However, for the umpteenth time this night, Dom leaves me speechless.

_“Chto?”_ Dom answers in Russian. In. Fucking. Russian. Where the hell did he learn that? I really doubt he attended Russian lessons while being away. I just can’t handle this anymore. Who is this person in front of me? Is he really Dom, my best friend? As Dom awaits for an answer for a couple of seconds, I wonder if he’s done speaking in Russian. After all, you may know a few words, but to be fluent is another thing. However, again, he proves me wrong. _“Ya ne mogu govorit' seychas, u menya yest'... da, ya ne odin,”_ he adds before giving us a kind look and a nod.

“He speaks Russian?” Elle asks, astonished and charmed. What the fucking fuck? My fucking girlfriend, who has just recently met Dom, is already charmed by him? What the fuck is going on?!

“Not that I know of,” I answer, shocked and feeling a bit nervous. “In fact, he can barely speak English.” My best effort to joke doesn’t amuse me at all; but, at least, Elle lets out a little laugh and turns to look at my best friend, who is still on the phone talking as if he were a fucking native.

“Well he certainly does, dah,” she bothers me while pointing at him. And, actually, she is damn right. Dom is still speaking in fucking Russian with a fucking Russian guy just a few meters away. What the fuck has happened to the world? Is he the same person that took off two years ago and practically vanished from my life? I look at him now and though I see him, I just can’t recognise him anymore. His features may be the same, his eyes may be the same, even his fucking voice may be the same but… he is not the same. Something has changed and I’m scared to know what. I even dare to ask myself if he is still my beloved friend. “And don’t even think that I forgot about our… little situation,” she laughs and imitates my “serious” tone before biting her lip seductively.

I nod trying to sound interested in her words, but, to tell you the truth, I am little bit distracted staring at my best friend, who is still speaking to the stranger on the phone. I feel so fucking intrigued right now… What are they talking about? How did Dom learn Russian so well? Where? With who? Why this Koroskov guy suddenly called?

Out of the blue, Elle leans over and kisses my cheek, in order to get my full attention.

I smile to her but it is a fake smile; it doesn’t even show anything. I’m sorry for her, I really am. It doesn’t matter how much I try to fight it; my mind is very far away now and I’m doing everything I can to put up with my horny girlfriend and my strange best friend.

After exchanging a few more words in Russian, Dom finally ends the conversation and joins us with a warm smile as if nothing had happened.

“Sorry. I really had to get that,” he apologises with a worried look on this face.

I’m fucking speechless. I can’t even talk. If I dare to open my mouth, a million questions will burst out. However, luckily, Elle is faster than me and adds:

“It’s fine and Matt and I were about to leave.” She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

I look at her, surprised and then at Dom. But when I realise that my girlfriend is getting upset, I squeeze her hand back to let her know that I’m fine with her decision; though I really want to stay and find out where my friend has been all this time.

“It’s okay. We can catch up some other day, can’t we, mate?” Dom interrupts my thoughts and saves the awkward moment with a kind tone.

He always does that. He is never angry or upset. Dom never demands anything from anyone. He is okay with everyone, it doesn’t matter who, where or when. Dom doesn’t really give a shit about it and, right now, I envy him so much. Why can’t I just accept his apologies and move on? He is a big guy, he is not a teen anymore and so am I. Why am I making such a big fuss about this?

Oh right, because I care about this damn guy. We all care about him and when he vanished from Earth, we all were fucking worried about him. Chris told me to not worry about him and that he needed space for himself after the tragedy. He knew Dom was a free and independent guy and that he could take care of himself. I knew that too but…

Even Tom told me to snap out of it a few months after he hadn’t even texted a damn hello. I told them I was fine and, although I tried to convince myself, it took me some time to accept that he wasn’t coming back home.

I gave him time anyways, but he didn’t answer back. I used to text him sometimes, hoping that he kept his old phone. I always wondered if he received my texts right after the little message popped on the screen of my phone assuring me that Dom had received my message.

Naturally, I never found out because the fucker never bothered on replying a simple “got it”. Nothing. Not even a single letter. Well, just like I said before, he vanished into thin air. 

“Of course,” I nod with an encouraging smile on my dry lips. Haven’t I just had a cold beer?

Elle doesn’t take much longer to say her goodbyes and pulls my hand along with her. I intend to follow but, before leaving, I turn to Dom, who has taken our place next to the bar. I need to say this because, if not, I’m not going to rest assured for a long time and, knowing Dom, he may vanish again tomorrow; so it’s my only chance to spit this shit out.

“I’m glad you are back home, Dom,” I murmur with sincerity, ignoring all those annoying warnings in my head.

Dom stares at me blankly for a second and frowns. Does he even recognise me? Stupid question, I know, but he doesn’t seem to know who the fuck I am for a single moment.

Despite all, he knows I’m mad at him; he is not stupid. Well, at least not that stupid? Who am I trying to trick? I thought he was stupid and the fact that he acted like a stupid person does not make him that. What? I think I’ve just lost the plot. I’m saying nonsense again, don’t mind me at all. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.

For a moment, we just exchange a long and silent look. God, I know you were hurt, Dom. I know you needed time to heal and space to breathe; but where have you been, friend? I ask myself again and again.

Suddenly, he seems to realise that I have noticed his confused and strange look and, in a jiffy, he switches it drastically, turning it into a kind and loveable expression. His kind and loveable expression.

“Me too, my friend, me too,” he adds before Elle pulls me away into the crowd. As we walk away, I watch him turning on his seat and asking the barman for an ice-cold beer.

***

_Tap, tap, tap._

That fucking sound fills my world again. It’s precious and disturbing at the same time. I don’t know how that is possible, but it is. Well, after all, that sound is my entire life right now. Everything depends on it. It doesn’t matter where I go, the sound of the clicking and the tapping is always present in my mind, reminding me of my task. So I had better keep on working.

I check on the clock after a couple of hours and let out a sigh. It’s almost ten in the morning and I have just barely started… God, I need to work faster. It seems that I’ll have to skip lunch again if I want to end this part.

When I finally write down the last sentence of the paragraph, I bit my lip and reread the final part of that section.

 _Trent, the American Corporation run by its CEO, Harold Trent, located in NY, has the largest amount of shares of stock in the American Market nowadays. Basically, Trent controls the current market._  
_Among pursuing other matters such as medical equipment and “charity”, it has been developing new ways of assisting other companies and firms all around the world. Although its assistance has been extremely “beneficial” to many forms of business, Trent is nothing but a façade to hide the true activities that are being undertaken under the supervision of Harold Trent._  
_Due to many reliable sources, such as different types of reports, forms and records of transactions I luckily have had before me (which I’ll later annex on Appendix III), I have been able to confirm that Trent has been purchasing stolen money from its “ghost corporations” all over the world to finance its secret projects._  
_It is also important to highlight that Trent’s Corporation has many kinds of deals with Volkov, located in Moscow (situation which certainly implicates the latter as an accomplice of Trent.) It is known that Trent and Volkov are allies as global and dangerous corporations, which, in order to pursue their own goals, won’t even blink to destroy what’s in front of them._  
_Volkov has had little time in the market since it’s practically a new firm. This Russian company arose from the merger of two former companies that have ceased to exist in the last couple of…_

My phone suddenly starts vibrating and it makes me almost jump in my place at the couch. I have forgotten that I have left my phone right besides me. Fool me.

I look away from the laptop with a lazy moan and grab my phone, which has stopped vibrating. When I take a look at the message on the screen, first I don’t understand it, but, when I read it again, I let out a slight “oh” and my grip on the device tightens.

I don’t recognise the number, since he is not part of my contacts list, but the words give the messenger away almost instantly. While I read the short message out loud, I feel my heart pumping faster in my chest.

_“Can I drop by? So we can talk.”_ I know it’s Dom, so I answer immediately.

_“Sure. I’ll be waiting,”_ I write the answer fast, feeling a bit nervous.

However, the knot in my throat tightens even more after I’ve sent the damn message. For a few minutes, I remain like glued to the little screen waiting for his response. Yet, I don’t receive any kind of confirmation from Dom and I really don’t know what to expect. Is he coming over? Did he receive my message? Was it even Dom the one who texted?

Even though I stare quietly at the phone, nothing happens, so I decide to leave it aside and not too far in case Dom calls or texts back. While I wait, my eyes go back to the laptop in front of me and I keep on reading the passage, internally counting the seconds for his arrival.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, someone rings the bell and I must admit that I’ve never felt so fucking nervous before. I look around at my silent and almost empty living-room and I can’t help but feeling a bit out of place.

Elle won’t be around until late afternoon, so I guess it’ll be just Dom and me this time. Yeah, the buddies finally meet, just like old times.

I stand up and shuffle to the front door and, when I open it, his wide and flashing smile welcomes me and somehow lightens up my day. He looks so happy, so full of life, so like himself just before all this happened to him. God, I’m so happy for him. I’m glad he’s done suffering and all that.

Although this happy Dom appears before me, images of his broken face also appear in my mind out of the blue and I can’t help but shivering. It’s been so long and so many things happened in the middle, but those memories are still intact in my mind.

I remember him being broken, depressed and torn apart. How is that a soul so kind like his has been punished so roughly? I ask myself as I picture his sorrowful expression taking hold of my memories.

Yeah, I wish I could erase those moments. Only God knows I do remember how fucked up he was before disappearing. I’m so glad I can finally see happiness surround him again, just like old times, when we didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone.

“Hi, Matt,” he almost laughs so brightly as he stretches out his hands and shows me the two Ventis he has just brought to share with me. I look at the coffees for a brief moment and then my eyes fall back on him, who is still smiling widely. “Black, no cream nor sugar,” he adds making a funny gesture with his eyebrows.

I let out a laugh while I’m happy he still remembers that little detail. It’s good to see that, even though he doesn’t look the same, maybe the old Dom is still inside there. For an instant, I just quickly think about how different he looks. It’s even a bit ridiculous how his blond eyebrows don’t match his hair, but it’s okay. He doesn’t look bad at all.

“Thanks, come in,” I invite him while I grab the hot coffee with one hand and close the door with the other. Dom looks around but doesn’t say anything. His grey eyes wander and scan the living-room and it kind of creeps me out a bit. Doesn’t he remember my place at all? Or am I just being paranoid again? It wouldn’t be the first time I am, but his curious gaze still comes and goes round the room. “I kinda knew it was you when you texted me,” I comment while leaving the Venti on the small table in front of the couch, where the laptop still waits for my return. “You were damn fast. Were you around?”

Dom seems to come back to reality and turns round to look at me with his happy face. He imitates me and comes closer to the table, but he doesn’t place the Venti next to mine.

“In fact, yes. I was just a few blocks away,” he explains before giving it a long drink.

I stare at him awkwardly for a second, and I can’t help but wonder when he last had a coffee. May be he had one yesterday or during the flight or who knows when. Why is it even relevant to me?

Dom doesn’t say anything else for a while and neither do I. He hides behind his large coffee and I decide to do the same thing. After I go back to my place on the couch and take a long and comforting sip of my black coffee, I realise that Dom is staring at me in silence.

Fucking. Creepy.

“So…” he begins as he approaches me and takes a seat next to me. “Elle’s not home?” he asks looking around us.

I shake my head and rest my back against the couch. Dom seems confident enough to leave his Venti on the table and then looks at me. 

“She is at school right now,” I add without thinking.

Then I remember that Dom doesn’t really know much about Elle and less that she still attends school. Dom doesn’t answer right back; in fact he gapes at me, as if I have just insulted him and all his fucking relatives. Yeah, well, it’s not his fault he didn’t notice yesterday that my girlfriend is kind of… underage. It was dark and she wasn’t wearing her school uniform, so yeah, shame on me.

“School?!” he yells, horrified.

I don’t even look at him when he shouts at me. I’m accustomed to this type of reactions. Well, Chris’s reaction wasn’t better and Tom’s… you can imagine. If I had remembered that Dom wasn’t even here when Elle and I got serious, I would have taken another approach to tell him; but, hey, I’m far from perfect. 

“Well, yeah,” I shrug without caring much about his opinion.

I glance at the watch on the wall and count the hours till Elle comes to see me.

“Man, please tell me she is eighteen,” Dom says feeling nervous, playing with his fingers in a very annoying way.

Even thought I try to convince myself I just haven’t heard that coming from him, I turn my head and I look at him coldly.

“Oh, come on, Dom. You can’t be fucking serious about it,” I state with anger, but it’s his answer the one that angers me the most.

“You can be damn sure I am!” He yells again crossing his arms.

And meanwhile he is giving me that look. That fucking look of anger and disappointment. What the fuck? I’m an adult and I can do whatever the hell I want. I never needed Dom’s permission before. Why should I need it now? Screw him!

After a few seconds of silence, I finally dare to glare at him, completely furious.

“Look,” I begin trying to control my anger, but it is fucking impossible. “I have been with her since you were gone who-knows-where and we were just fine. We didn’t have a single problem.” He intends to interrupt me, but there’s no fucking way I’m letting him. Again, I raise my voice over his and continue. “I know, Dom. I fucking know it already, okay? She is fucking underage and I’m a fucking thirty-four-year-old bloke, so fucking what?” I exclaim feeling my face hot and my hands sweaty.

God, I want to punch him. I want to strangle him. He’s been away for so long and this is what he wants to tell me? He wants us to argue and fight for this?

Finally, Dom seems to cool down and think about it and I’m glad he has done that, but he is far from over with his annoying speech.

“So, her parents can sue you? They can send you to jail?” He asks a bit worried.

That comment makes me laugh, but not because he is saying nonsense. No, he isn’t wrong at all. He is damn right about that. Elle’s parents don’t know shit about me and I thank the Lord they don’t. What would they say if they found out a thirtysomething divorced guy is screwing their beloved young daughter? Jail, yeah. Or who knows what.

However, I’m not scared about them finding out. Elle would never tell them without telling me first.

“Don’t come with that piece of crap, Dom,” I say after I’ve recovered from my laughter attack. “I know the risks, I know I can end up behind the bars. And let me tell you that I have been fine all this entire time you weren’t even here to notice I was dating a minor.” Again, he is about to say something, but I just keep on talking, ignoring him. “So, please, if you came to scold me like a little child, just shut the fuck up and leave before I punch you in the face.” That’s it. I can’t fucking believe I’ve just threatened my best friend. Whatever, he was being an asshole to me, he fucking deserved it.

Dom looks at me completely shocked and puzzled. He opens his mouth several times but nothing comes out of it. I left him speechless, I guess.

“I didn’t mean to get you upset, Matt. I’m sorry. I guess I was just being… intrusive,” he mumbles, feeling awkward and out of place as he moves away from me on the couch.

I roll my eyes and try to amend the situation. I don’t want to fight with Dom. I want to talk to him like before, like when we were close. 

“Whatever, Jesus Christ, Dom. Did you really come here to talk about Elle?” I ask frowning.

Dom shakes his head and lowers his gaze. Slowly, the conversation is going were its supposed to go.

“No, sorry. I… I guess I just don’t know where to start,” Dom replies with a sad smile on his face.

Oh, God. Not that expression again. I take a deep breath and, then, I get a little bit closer to him.

“Well you could start by telling me how you are,” I mutter as I slowly cool down too.

My friend looks at me in silence and hesitates for a moment. Outside, I hear some people walking down the street. They are laughing and having a good time. Why can’t we too? Why does everything have to be so fucking weird and awkward now?

“I’m…” he begins in a low murmur, but he strays in the middle for a little second until he regains the confidence to continue. “…fine. I just needed to get away and… live a bit,” he ends the sentence abruptly.

Now I’m the one who is frowning, astonished. Yeah, we all knew that Dom needed time. But… come on. I’m not mad, I’m not exaggerating at all. He disappeared completely for two years. Is it normal? Well, for me, it isn’t.

“Guess what, sleeping beauty?” I try to joke in order to not sound so grim. “You took two fucking years. I know you were like shit. It was hell when you lost your dad, Dom. Believe me, we all were shocked about it too. But you could have stayed in touch with your best friends. I’m not implying that you should have called us everyday every minute. It was enough with a simple “hi” or “I’m alive” every now and then. Does Chris know you are here? What about Tom? They were fucking worried too about you.” My little speech makes him feel bad.

I can see his lips trembling and his eyes avoiding mine. Sorry, Dom, but it had to be done.

“Yeah, I called them this morning to let them know,” he answers, ignoring the rest as he leans over the table and grabs his Venti to take a long sip.

I repeat his words in my mind and, then, I can’t help but saying the following:

“Were you gonna call me too if we hadn’t met yesterday?” Great. Now I sound like a psycho co-dependant girlfriend. Well done, Matthew, well done.

Dom gives me a funny look and smiles. Well, at least I’m glad his warm smile has returned.

“What are you? My girlfriend? Gosh, Matt, of course I was going to call you too,” he keeps on laughing, still holding his coffee. “I guess you were the lucky one who found me first,” he explains sipping it again.

My anger dissipates and I feel a bit ashamed. Yeah, I’m acting like a fucking jealous girlfriend. It couldn’t be better…

“Oh…” I mutter as I feel my cheeks burning.

For a moment, we remain silent and sipping our coffees in an awkward way. I wish I could just delete that stupid comment I’ve made before, but, whatever, I will have to deal with it.

“Look, I know that you must be very confused…” suddenly, Dom bursts out.

“I would say fucking confused,” I interrupt him before finishing my Venti and leaving it next to my laptop.

Really? God, my liver must be so fucking destroyed right now. I drink coffee the way a common person would drink water. Let’s not even bring alcohol into the matter…

“Yeah well, I get it and I’m so sorry for that,” Dom apologises as he tries to stand my intense blue eyes on his.

I nod, accepting his apology, but we both know that this has just begun.

“Did you receive any of my messages?” I ask a little bit intrigued.

Dom looks at me puzzled as if he didn’t know what to say. I’m about to repeat the question when Dom answers.

“No, sorry.” His voice trembles and makes me doubt. Mmm… Is he lying to me? He didn’t sound very confident and certainly he did not convince me at all. Why are you lying to me, Dom? Was it too painful to look back on those who still cared for you? I wonder as I stare at him. In the end, I decide to let it pass, at least for now. I don’t want to quarrel again and it seems that it won’t be an easy task to make him talk. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t think of any of you! Everyday I wanted to call you and tell you I was fine,” he adds as he regains some confidence.

Though it pleases me to see he didn’t forget about us in his journey, I don’t hold back when I formulate the next question: 

“And why the fuck didn’t you?” Okay, may be I’m not being very delicate with him, but he has to understand. Dom needs to know that this is fucking important to me.

Again, I catch him off guard and leave him speechless.

“I… I… I don’t know,” he mumbles, completely lost, focusing his gaze somewhere else.

I watch him bite his lip and move awkwardly in the couch for a moment. Though it’s not my intention to make this even harder to him, there’s no other way to handle the situation.

Dom doesn’t seem eager to continue, but I’m determined. A bit tired, I let out a sigh as I massage my temples for a minute. This guy is already giving me a hell of a headache.

“Can you at least tell me where have you been?” I go to the main point when I realise that he isn’t going to talk willingly.

Dom frowns and moves his hands in an oddly manner. He is so fucking nervous right now I can even see the sweat on his forehead.

“I told you yesterday. I went to America,” he mutters playing with the almost empty Venti between his fingers.

I cock an eyebrow at him and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah? And you also learnt Russian there?” I bother him a bit.

He must know he can’t fool me. At least not with that. If he wants to feed me lies, he will have to be better at lying.

“Well, I may have visited other places as well,” he finally admits.

“Like?” I push him to spit it out.

Dom sighs and looks at me, defeated.

“I went to Berlin,” he answers straight, without any sign of hesitation.

I nod, a bit surprised to hear that. Suddenly, I remember all the different pieces of news I have read about the wild nightlife in there. It seems that Dom didn’t want to waste any time.

“Nice. I heard nightlife there is very… interesting,” I give him a wicked smile while winking at him.

“Yep,” Dom doesn’t even bother on denying it.

Fucking wanker.

“So where else? You certainly did not spend two fucking years in America and Berlin partying,” I laugh and he looks at me as if I had just said a bad joke.

That was weird and creepy.

“I went to Moscow,” he starts spilling the truth very slowly, as if he was ashamed or something of the sort.

I really feel like annoying him a bit, so I give him a slight poke that makes him jump in his place, laughing his ass off too.

“I guess I figured that out by myself when I saw you speaking like a fucking native with that Koroskov guy.” I still can’t believe I remember that guy’s name.

It sounds silly, but I’m a bit jealous although I will never admit it out loud and less in front of my friend. What I’m trying to say is that Dom hasn’t spoken to me in two years and, according to him, he doesn’t even know why; but, when it comes to his Russian bff, he doesn’t seem to hesitate on answering him…

I’m intrigued. Fuck, that’s nothing compared to what I really feel. How did Dom meet this guy? Why do they keep in touch? Did he teach him to speak in Russian? Is he in Russia now? God, I have so many questions and I don’t know where to start.

“Oh, you flatter me, Matt.” Dom makes a funny gesture with his hand while smiling.

“Where else, Dominic? Do you even have pictures?” I ask feeling my heart racing.

I want to see pictures; because they are the only proof I have that Dom isn’t lying to me. If he shows me something, I will have to believe him. There won’t be any doubts anymore.

“Sorry, I didn’t bring my camera with me,” he says before taking another sip of his coffee. Does he still have some or is he pretending to drink?

I can’t be so fucking paranoid… of course he is drinking.

“That’s a shame,” I murmur watching at my friend.

He notices I’m still expecting an answer; well I’m being very polite to use that term. When I say expect, may be I refer to something like I really fucking want it. Dom smiles a little, finishes his coffee at last and then looks at the ceiling, thinking about something he can only see.

“I went to Tokyo,” he finally shares after a few minutes of silence.

Now I’m the one gaping. This guy has visited amazing places all over the world, has known different cultures, has even learnt about them. And then there’s me… well, once, when little, I went to Wales. It has to count, doesn’t it?

What surprises me the most is how he could afford it. I knew that Dom’s dad had something saved for every member of his family and when he passed away (I’m being so correct and delicate by saying “passed away” when I should have said “fucking killed” but… I guess I can avoid the correct term this time) Dom obviously got his part and used it to leave the country. He had savings from work, too, since we used to work together at the same place. But were they even enough? Well this is another damn mystery.

When those memories strike me, I feel nostalgic and I really want to hug this asshole sitting next to me. I picture his first day at the “station”, the way we used to call it before, and I have to admit that I fucking hated that blond who came to ask for a job. Chris instantly liked him, like everybody else at work. Yeah, why wouldn’t they? The happy and naïve blond had all them wrapped around his little finger; yeah, all except me, dah.

Well, in order not to bore you with many months of rivalry and arguments, we (or should I say I?) accepted the other and that was it. We were fucking friends from that moment. I know it sounds silly and stupid, but, whatever, it’s the fucking truth. I don’t know why I didn’t want to accept Dom first. I guess it had to do with jealousy? Who knows… He didn’t even work in my department, since the blond didn’t care much for leader and corrupt corporations.

“Don’t fuck with me,” I almost yell, but when I see his expression I realise he isn’t lying, at least not this time. “Really?” I ask very excited when I see him nodding as if it were something perfectly natural. Then, when my friend changes his position on the couch, it strikes me. “Don’t you dare tell me you know Japanese, because I’ll go nuts, Dom,” I threat him in a serious tone.

_“Watashi wa shimasen,”_ he says in Japanese. In. Fucking. Japanese.

Fucking kill me right now. What?!

“No fucking way! No. Fucking. Way, Dominic Howard. How is that you know so many languages?” I’m screaming like a little girl who is visiting Disneyland for the first time.

Dom laughs and shrugs, minimising the subject.

“Come on, it’s no big deal. I can speak it a bit. I can’t talk about…” he looks around looking for something and then, his eyes land on the screen of my laptop”… ghost corporations”. As soon as he reads it, he frowns and looks at me, puzzled. “What are those anyway?” His intention is to start reading the whole paragraph, with an intrigued look on his face, but I close the laptop abruptly, which scares him a bit. “Oh, I’m sorry I just remembered how much it bothers you that others spy on your work.” He backs off knowing he has crossed the line, but I just shake my head and soften my gaze.

“Only on my unfinished work, you mean. I will show it to you once I have finished it. I promise,” I declare in order not to make him feel bad.

Dom nods and doesn’t try to change my mind.

“That’s fine by me.”

I look at my laptop thinking about the next question.

“Does your mother know you are here? Does Emma?” I frown while remembering their sad expressions.

Dom’s mom isn’t a young lady and the fact that his son vanished didn’t please her at all. And his younger sister, Emma, also didn’t handle it well. It kind of worsened the situation, but it was family business after all. So I guess Dom will have a long, long talk with them.

“Yeah, of course they know. I called them as soon as I got off the plane,” he explains to me.

“I’m glad. They were worried as hell.” Deep inside, I want him to feel a little bit guilty and I think it’s working.

Dom lowers his head and sighs, again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles feeling a bit down.

Whatever, fuck that.

“You know, though I like that you acknowledge that you were a bloody bastard with all, your constant apologies are freaking me out,” I laugh slightly elbowing him in the ribs.

“Sorr… nevermind,” he cuts his apology and smiles again. “You know, I wanted to ask you… How is everything at work?” Since when is he the one asking questions?

Work… work… the tapping sound appears in my head and I glance at my laptop.

“Well,” I begin after taking a deep breath. God, the work… the fucking work… yeah how could I forget about it? I bite my lip and when Dom senses that something isn’t right, I answer as fast as I can. “It’s ok,” I get his attention. “Missing you. Our blond paparazzo was gone for quite some time, you know? It’s nice to have him back” I joke trying to make him forget about it in a very subtly way.

Dom laughs and nods.

“I’m glad to be back home, where I belong,” he states after a brief moment of silence.

For the first time this day, we both see eye to eye on something.

“Yeah, we are all glad you are finally back, Dom,” I agree with my friend, who gives me the happiest smile I’ve ever seen.


	2. Chapters 2 and 3

_Two_

It’s already nighttime and, thank God, Elle passed by to have dinner together. I really enjoy her company. Right now, she must be in the bedroom watching telly. I’m not much of a fan of the TV shows she watches, but I really don’t mind watching them with her.

However, in this precise moment, I’m on the balcony staring at the empty street below me. The weather is nice tonight and the only thing I can think of right now is how much I crave for a cigarette.

Slowly, I take the lighter and an almost-empty packet from my pockets. I’ve told myself so many times that I should give up smoking but I think there’s no use. I have tried it like five years ago and I was a total fail. Which was my record? A week? Less? I don’t even remember, but it was stupid. Besides, I really fucking like it. It makes me calm and helps me to think.

“Matt! You are missing the show again!” Elle shouts from the bedroom.

“I’ll be there in five, love,” I shout back as I hold the cigarette with my lips and light it.

The smoke fills my lungs and, though it’s not something nice, it fucking feels like it. I close my eyes for a bit and ponder about what has happened today with Dom. Well, he hasn’t told me shit, but I’m glad I have seen him. I really missed my friend.

Through the cloud of smoke around me, I start to wonder if he has already gone to see Chris and Tom too. I should feel bad because it’s been a few weeks since I haven’t heard anything from them. Sure they are busy with their lives. Both married with kids.

I miss them but right now my mind is focused on ending my project. Once I finish it, I will bother them with my silly drunk calls and messages and they will wish I’ve just stayed at home working.

Suddenly, a funny idea appears in my mind as I retrieve my phone out of my back pocket and unlock it. A smile flashes across my face when I start typing the silly message.

 _“Hey, fucker. Want to hang out and get fucking drunk? ;)”_ I type as fast as I can with both hands while holding the cigarette between my lips again; the wicked smile never leaves my face during the process.

I send it and wait for a response. I know Dom enjoys going out and having fun around alcohol and girls… And, I want to highlight that I’m not a person who would cheat. I admit I have done that in the past. That’s why I have an ex wife, dah. But, right now, I’m not a very social person, I’m aware of that. And, though it may seem impossible, wrong in many levels and not correct, I really like Elle.

I take a very long and peaceful drag of my cigarette as I stare into the silent night. My street usually is quiet, but this quiet? Wow. Suddenly, my phone vibrates on my hand.

Eager, I unlock it and open the new message.

_“No.”_

That is all. A simple and fucking cold “no”. No smileys, no exclamation marks, no other line. Well, we are adults after all, and I get it that he doesn’t really need to write like an idiot to sound friendly; however… Jesus fucking Christ, Dom. I really understand if he doesn’t feel up to it, but couldn’t he be a bit less creepy? Damn, damn.

Well, people sometimes refuse and that is totally fine, but fuck, it gave me creeps. Still astonished, I check the number in case I have made a mistake and sent it to somebody else. If it was Chris, I would have totally got it. He just left rehab a year ago and it would be stupid to invite him to get wasted again.

But no, it was Dom’s new number. What the hell is going on with him? Is he angry at me or something?

However, before I can draw any other conclusion, my phone vibrates again. Gee, another message so soon?

_“Matt, sorry. I was texting many people at the same time. Got the numbers mixed up. Anyway I’ll have to pass tonight. I’m staying at Emma’s. She insisted… guess I will see you some other time?”_

I frown at the message and I really don’t know what to do. And it has nothing to do with Dom’s refusal. It’s perfectly okay he wants to stay at his sister’s tonight. I read the text again and, though there’s nothing wrong with it, I suddenly feel a shiver running down my spine.

Something is so out of place and I don’t know what it is. I finish my cigarette and I put it out on the rail while thinking all the possible answers. Finally, I type the easiest one.

_“Sure, mate, no problem.”_

I thought that after pressing send, I would feel better, but I don’t. Something is haunting me, pushing me. I don’t know what happened to Dom. Whatever has happened to him out there has changed him and I’m scared to see what lies underneath his warm smiles and happy faces.

***

_Three_

_Tap, tap, tap, tap._

_Trent. Volkov._

Those two names somehow have become more familiar to me than my own friends. I haven’t heard anything from Chris or Tom or even from my own family in a long time. I think I haven’t called my parents in… months? Years? I can’t even be sure of that.

Not even my brother. The last thing I‘ve heard from Paul is that he’d moved somewhere with his new family and that was… a year ago? God, I’m a mess, such a fucking mess.

How is that I know more of Harold Trent and the Volkov Corporation than my own relatives? Do I know my nephew’s age? Do I know if my parents still live together? Do they even get along? Is my brother a happy person? I wish I could answer all these questions, but, sadly, other things came along my way.

I keep on writing with my eyes fixed on the screen, ignoring the cold half-eaten sandwich next to me. It’s funny how in the last weeks I’ve have lost my appetite.

“Still on that thing?” Elle’s voice appears from nowhere, caressing my ear and, although it hurts my pride to admit this, it almost makes me jump from the chair.

I turn to look at her a bit mad, but she just stands there, laughing her ass off meanwhile I glare at her, still with my heart racing like a bitch.

“Jesus, you could have knocked,” I complain as I soften my gaze and my grip on the back of the chair.

Elle gets closer, leans over me and hugs me, trying to amend the situation. I sigh and shake my head as my anger fades away instantly; then I pat her hands kindly and kiss her cheek. She is fucking adorable, yeah, but she can be a little mean sometimes too.

“But it’s fun to scare you,” she whispers, still laughing and bothering me with that devilish grin I love so much.

I give her a warning look and, then, after she has let me go from her embrace, I focus again on my work.

 _“Recently, Trent has given a press conference in which he tackled the tabloids…”_ I keep writing, ignoring Elle’s stare on my back. What does she want? Can’t she see I’m working here?

“Is there anything you need?” I say while I continue writing my article.

Elle laughs softly, but she hasn’t moved yet and I can feel her standing behind me. For a minute or two, she doesn’t reply, as if she was thinking what to say or how to say whatever she has in her mind.

“Don’t you remember what day is it?” She finally says taking a few steps closer to me.

That’s it. I stop typing now in order to focus. Oh, God. Oh, God. This must be a fucking trap. I’m sure it’s that kind of girlfriend-trap in which I have only one possible correct answer. Fuck me.

I close my eyes, forgetting about Trent and Voklov for a little second, and start evoking all the important dates in my head: Elle’s birthday will be in a month, our anniversary is just a few days away, my birthday has already passed. What else is important?

That’s it, I give up.

“You got me. Is it Saturday?” I ask innocently, hoping that I haven’t forgotten any crucial date or event.

Elle laughs at my nervous answer and closes my laptop slowly, though she knows it gets me angry. I really don’t like it when someone touches my tool.

“Today The Wild takes place at The Bunker, remember I told you last week? We’ve been planning to go!” She shouts a little too excited.

The Wild? Oh, yes. A known party for students or whatever. It’s supposed to be “the thing” nowadays. What the hell am I supposed to do there? Watch her classmates get drunk?

I cock an eyebrow at her and cross my arms.

“We?” I ask, still looking at her wide smile.

I remember when she came up with that party a week ago and I can assure you I had no part in it. I remember Elle talking about it and all that. She may have asked me if I wanted to attend and I may have nodded without paying much attention. You know how immersed in my work I can get sometimes, don’t you?

“Well, I!” She laughs after a silent staring fight. “But you agreed to come too!” She defends her argument as her lips curve down and her eyes get squinty.

Oh fucking hell, she is getting pissed.

“Darling, I really need to focus on this and I don’t think it’s a party for me,” I begin trying not to hurt her feelings, but the angry look on her face already makes me feel like hell about it.

“Nonsense. Everybody is going! Not just classmates. And you promised me we would go!” She shouts raising her arms above her head.

Great. The last thing I need is an angry girlfriend.

“Elle…” I try to calm her down, but it’s useless.

She still glares at me with her little hands closed in fists. Damn, she looks like she could come and beat me senseless right now.

“Whatever, fuck off, Matthew. Just fuck off,” she yells furious at me while turning to go away.

I sigh and before she leaves the room, I turn round feeling defeated and manipulated. Am I not a thirty-four-year-old adult? Why the fuck am I giving up to a girl’s whim? I guess that would be because I fucking love this girl.

“At what time is this damn thing?” I surrender.

Elle squints at me again, wondering if I’m being serious or not. However, when she confirms that I’m not lying, she practically screams in joy and runs to me, kissing my face.

“Twelve. It will be wild,” she jokes making a funny gesture with her face.

I roll my eyes as I stand up with a groan.

“Yeah, let’s hope that,” I say ironically while I stretch my back and follow her back into the bedroom to look for something a bit more decent to wear tonight.

Elle runs to her backpack, in which she has brought her clothes for this evening. She also grabs a little bag, in which, I presume, she keeps all her make-up. I turn to the middle-sized closet and open it. Then, I scan all the drawers with a boring look on my face and this is when I realise that I don’t have many “nice” clothes to go out.

In fact, most of the time I just wear whatever I have around. I sigh again and grab a black shirt, probably the stained one I used the other day, and some trousers.

“You could invite Dom,” Elle says as she adds some mascara to her eyelashes.

I frown and don’t turn to face her right away. Yeah, it’s not a bad idea. After all, I won’t be the only oldie in there and I miss going out with my friend. It could work.

“I guess I can,” I say after my girlfriend has grabbed her bag and run into the bathroom to fix some mistake she has done with the eyeliner.

I hear Elle’s complains as I make my way through the messy room to grab my phone, that is lying on the nightstand besides my undone bed. While Elle mutters something incomprehensible in the bathroom, I unlock the phone and take a look at the empty inbox. Well, I guess I’m not that popular anymore.

 _“Elle’s dragging me to some kind of party… feel like joining?”_ I type as a smile starts to cross my face.

When I press send, I leave the phone on the bed and change my clothes while listening to my girlfriend’s insults. Damn, that girl can swear even more than me. After I have tied the laces of my shoes, I hear the phone vibrating a few inches away from me.

I haven’t talked to Dom after the awkward incident yesterday and I really don’t know what to expect. But can I even call it incident? God, nothing has happened. He just got his contacts mixed and refused to go out. Can that be categorised as “incident”?

I drop down on the mattress and take a look at the unread message from Dom, whose name is flashing on the screen.

 _“Underage party full of underage people? This can’t turn out well… guess I will go to take care of you,”_ I read smiling.

Fucker.

 _“That’s so nice of you. See you at The Bunker then, nanny.”_ I also type the address in case he doesn’t know the place and right after I send it, Elle comes into the bedroom looking like a queen.

“Well, he is coming too,” I say as I wave my phone on hand.

Elle, who is in underwear now, grabs her dress and smiles at me.

“That’s great,” she states after giving me a short kiss on the lips.

I could have taken the car, but tonight I feel like drinking a bit. Well, not a bit. You know what I mean. Anyway, we take a cab to the place so-called “The Bunker”. Damn names. Who chooses them? Everything about it screams “illegal” and “outlaw”, but I guess I could be easily labeled under those names. After all, I’m dating a minor, am I not?

The ride to the place is a bit boring. Elle spends the whole ride speaking to that Emily-bitch-friend she has on the phone. I don’t listen much, but they talk about meeting inside the place, mainly. I don’t like Emily and she doesn’t like me at all. She knows about us, of course, and, as everyone does, she doesn’t approve our relationship. (Lies, she doesn’t approve me).

It’s not like I give a shit about that girl’s opinions, but she has threatened me before with telling my girlfriend’s parents and the cops. I don’t even say “we” because I don’t think Elle knows her friend hates me that much. 

Anyway, twenty minutes later, we arrive at the place. First, it’s not located in the best neighbourhood, and if it weren’t for the loud music and the people outside the big house, the street would be completely dead. I really hope there aren’t cops around or this will end badly.

I pay the guy and we get out of the cab and walk to the main entrance, but before we come inside, I hear Dom’s voice calling my name.

“What’s up?” I say, giving him a hug.

I don’t know why I do that. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t tend to go and hug people. Whatever, I guess I’ve just missed my best friend a lot. Dom stands still for a brief moment not knowing what to do until he returns the embrace awkwardly. Then, he greets Elle in a very polite way.

Dom and his charms… wanker.

“Let’s go,” Elle says as she pulls me into the large house infested by people.

As soon as we come in, the smell of cheap alcohol and sweat hits me. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a place like this. I can’t say the same about Dom, who stares at the dark place with his mouth opened.

The Bunker has nothing to do with its name. It’s just an ordinary house. It may be larger and creepier than any ordinary house, but you get what I’m saying. The living-room, or at least what it used to be the living-room, is crowded with drunken dancing people.

Some of them greet my girlfriend by waving their hands and some girls approach us shouting and they end taking Elle away to the bar, which is in the right corner. Dom and I follow the group and silently watch the younger people talk.

God, I feel like a fucking alien in here.

“This is my boyfriend and his friend, Simon,” Elle introduces us to that Simon-guy while pointing me and Dom, who hasn’t said a single thing since we came in to the house.

This Simon (a ginger-freckled guy) looks at us frowning and offers us some weird drink in red plastic cups. I see Dom grabbing his drink and smelling it, obviously not sure about drinking it.

I also see my girlfriend drinking the same strange thing while laughing hysterically with the little group.

“At least Emily is not here,” I kind of toast before tasting the horrendous drink.

I can smell vodka, whiskey and a lot of other stuff in it. Fucking hell, this Simon should attend a course or something before standing behind a bar.

“Who’s that?” Dom, who has heard me over the loud electronic music, asks me sipping his drink.

“Elle’s bitchy friend. Nevermind, just an annoying classmate of hers,” I explain briefly after leaving the drink aside.

It smells fucking horrible and it tastes even worse and I can’t fucking drink it. If I even get to smell it again, I will puke my innards out. Dom laughs at me and, surprisingly, he doesn’t get rid of his awful drink. He gives it another sip while looking at the insane people dancing around us.

 “Hey,” I hear Elle’s voice as she grabs my arm and pulls me into her. I focus on my girlfriend who looks demolished, by the way. How much time has passed? Five minutes? “Look what I’ve just found,” she shouts while holding a small package full of white powder in front of my eyes.

“Where did you get that?” I ask as I try to take it away from her, but she is faster than I am and hides it somewhere.

“It’s a secret!” She starts laughing and when she sees I’m not laughing as well, she gets a bit serious. “This shit is invaluable; you can’t throw it away,” she states giving me a very serious look. However, I don’t say anything and I have never said anything about throwing it away. I just look how she waves the small package full of cocaine in front of me, as it were some kind of trophy. “Whatever,” she finally says, bored. “If you won’t use it, I will give it to Dom,” she threatens me as she walks past me towards my friend, who turns to look at her a bit surprised. “You want some?” She says winking an eye to him.

I look at them for a brief moment in which he seems to ponder about what’s the best answer. Finally, Dom takes the small thing and thanks her. Elle just goes away to dance with her friends, forgetting about me. What the hell has just happened?

“Give me that,” I almost shout trying to reach the package, but Dom is taller than I am so he easily gets it away in time.

“Are you going to use it?” He asks backing away from me.

Now I’m the one who is thinking about that. I haven’t done it since… years. In fact, I guess I was like twenty something the last time I used. I don’t remember much about that night. I do recall being shitwrecked, but I had so much fun too.

“Maybe I will,” I conclude.

Dom smiles at me and tells me to follow him somewhere. I do as he says and we cross the living-room. I don’t know where he is taking me, but I just follow him around the house. We go through a small and dark corridor full of people smoking weed and, before entering a small bathroom, I can’t help but stare at a couple fucking on a corner.

I listen to their breaths and their little moans. But what makes my cock twitch is that squelching noise every time the lucky guy gets to thrust his girlfriend. Fucking hell. That is so damn hot.

Well, once we enter the bathroom and close the door, the light bulb doesn’t help much after Dom has turned it on, but it’s something. I can still hear the couple’s moans from where I am standing. I’m getting impatient and a bit horny, but Dom seems fine when he opens the small package and, with expertise skills, makes two narrow lines on the corner of the dirty basin.

“I didn’t know you used,” I comment surprised as I watch him retrieve five pounds out of his wallet.

“I don’t,” he answers back, but when he sees my expression, he quickly continues. “I may have used a bit during my trip, but I didn’t spend all my days high on cocaine if that’s what you mean,” Dom explains as he ends rolling the five pounds.

I watch him getting closer to the basin and, for a brief moment, I don’t think he is going to do it. Maybe he is just saying nonsense, just bluffing. However, he proves me wrong when he brings the rolled pound up to his nose and snorts the fine line clean. Oh, fuck, fuck. He’s just done it right in front of me, without any sign of doubt nor hesitation.

“Your turn,” he smiles at me, handing me the rolled paper.

First I look at his happy expression and then my eyes land on the printed face of fucking Elizabeth II. It’s weird and ironic having the damn queen staring at me in a situation like that.

“Aren’t you supposed to “nanny” me, Mister Howard?” I annoy him with a wicked smile on my lips, but he just rolls his eyes. “Fuck it,” I mumble as I grab it and get close to the basin.

I thought something would stop me; my conscience maybe or my non-existent sense of morality, but no. “Not tonight, Bellamy” a little voice whispers in my head as I snort the white powder into my system.

Fucking little fucking fuck.

I pick my fucking nose for a bit, trying to get accustomed to the feeling while Dom just watches me, amused. Outside, the electronic beat makes the walls and the windows almost vibrate and, if I’m not wrong, it’s also driving the people insane.

Dom and I just stare at each other in complete silence listening everything that happens around us. The couple seems to be gone, but there’s a guy knocking at the bathroom door, telling us to hurry the fuck up because he needs to pee immediately.

“Let’s hit the night, big boy,” Dom exclaims making a funny gesture with his hands.

I want to answer, to say “fuck yeah!” or “sure, friend”, but I feel as if my lips were melting or something. Shit, this shit is acting fucking fast. When we open the door and face the younger man who is at the brink of losing his mind (or pants), he just stares at us with a disgusted look on his face while elbowing his way into the bathroom.

I don’t even mind about it and neither does Dom, who is smiling in a very creepy way and already speaking to a couple of guys who are smoking weed and talking about how corrupt a government can be.

Fuck, I can’t do this.

I ignore those creeps and I grab Dom’s wrist and pull him with me into the living-room, where the crazy horde of people is dancing and singing. Something inside me tells me to join them, to climb one of the few stereos and dance as if it was my last night on Earth.

I feel fine, I feel confident, and I feel fucking powerful. All my previous inhibitions (did I even have those?) have disappeared and now I’m moving slowly, entering the room. When I reach the centre, I realise that Dom hasn’t come with me. I look around but I can’t spot him in the furious crowd. Whatever, sure he must be around.

When my eyes fix on Elle, who is dancing with her friends, I move towards her and put my hands on her waist and kiss her neck while baltering behind her.

“Hi.” It’s the only word I can mutter without much effort. My brain is fucking fried right now and I really can’t think much more beyond that.

God, I’m not that stoned, but it feels as if I had snorted eighty lines instead of one. Everything around me is a complete blur of bodies and music. It’s a bit overwhelming.

My girlfriend turns to look at me and smiles. She kisses me deeply and I kiss her back. However, a few steps away, that Emily bitch is glaring at us.

“Leave it,” Elle laughs when she sees my furious expression. “Come on with me and leave her alone,” she adds before taking me far away from the girl, who is still glaring at me. Not us, me. Fucking bitch.

“Where’s Dom?” It’s an achievement for me to formulate more than two letters without messing it up.

Elle ignores my question and keeps taking me somewhere else. We leave the living-room and all the noisy people and go behind a stereo that could be even bigger than my entire bedroom.

We don’t say a thing. She just pushes me against the giant thing and when my back collapses against it, I feel her arms around me and her body pressing against mine. I kiss her roughly while my hands wander along her slim body.

In that moment, I remember the couple having sex next to the bathroom door and it’s almost impossible for me not to have a boner right there. Elle feels it instantly and laughs at me, but I don’t laugh; I can’t laugh.

Feeling rather powerful, I change our positions and I corner her against the wall, making her moan. My lips suddenly descend to her neck, where I star to kiss her and bite her. God, she is beautiful and delicious. I want her, I need her right now and right here.

I slid my hand under her dress making her pink panties aside and, without any kind of inhibition, I begin to cares her slit. Elle digs her nails in my arm while a loud moan escapes her pretty mouth.

“You’re so fucking wet for me already.” I don’t understand how is that I could say that, but I did. I did, and it fucking turns us on even more. “Come here,” I add before removing my hand and sucking my fingers clean. Elle lets out a complaining sound and glares at me, but I just ignore it.

In less than a few seconds, I undo my trousers and move away the underwear. God, I’m fucking burning right now. I need to fuck her now or I feel like I will die. Without saying anything else, I almost plunge intro her wet core, making her shout my name in ecstasy.

Feeling how my body bursts out in flames, I thrust deep into her, not even thinking about condoms or protection; after all, Elle’s on the pill. Suddenly, she wraps one of her legs around my waist giving me more space and access to thrust even further.  

I need to feel her salty skin with my lips too. After I have left her lips swollen, I lower my head and kiss her cleavage. I leave a trail of wet kisses along and across her clavicles and when I come across the fabric of her dress; I push it aside to keep on tasting her.

Elle screams and arches her back when I take her pink nipple into my mouth and give it a soft bite. I smile without stopping at all. My hands grab her legs while my hips collide against hers desperately.

“Oh my fucking God, Matt, please don’t stop,” she manages to say after swallowing.

I don’t answer, at least not with words. My lips brush against her skin and move to the other covered nipple. Then, she lets go my arm and grabs my hair, moving her body against mine as fast as she can.

I can’t stop thrusting. I can’t stop moaning and panting. It’s even more addictive than the fucking dope I have taken earlier. Meanwhile I’m lost inside my girlfriend, I hear her gasp and call someone.

What? What the fuck is going on? I stop thrusting her and I turn my head to watch at our visitor, who is standing a few steps away, completely surprised. Oh God, it’s Dom. Dom is watching me having sex with Elle. Should I feel bad or guilty? Because I’m even hornier if it’s possible.

Dom starts getting closer to us, his eyes fixed on our sweaty bodies. He doesn’t stop until he is by my side. He isn’t touching me, but he would if I moved.

“Can I kiss Elle, Matt?” He asks looking at my girlfriend, who is panting against the wall, completely unaware that her breasts are now visible to him as well.

I can’t think about his question. I can’t think about anything at all. The only thing I know is that I’m horny and I want to keep on thrusting my girlfriend till I come. Elle looks at me biting her lip, anxious.

I simply nod. Something inside me tells me I need to see my best friend and my girlfriend making out. They look at each other then and, slowly, join their hungry mouths in a passionate kiss.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

If I keep looking, my heart is going to explode so that is why I focus again on Elle, who starts moaning on their kiss. She must have brought him closer to us, because now I can feel Dom’s shoulder glued to mine.

Even though I try to fight it, the fucking image appears in my mind; and the worst of all is that it even gets me going. It’s no longer Elle the one I’m fucking. Yeah, it’s fucking him. Oh, God.

I’m fantasising about fucking my best friend, who is making out with my girlfriend next to me. I imagine myself looking at Dom’s grey eyes while thrusting deep into his fucking ass. How fucked up are we?! How fucked up am I?!

Turned on as fuck, I open my eyes and I watch how Elle starts touching his chest. Her hands brush against his nipples and then lower until she finds the zip of his black trousers. She is going to fucking wank him in front of me. How wrong is this? How fucking wrong are we?

I don’t believe my own eyes until I hear Dom moaning and breathing heavily next to us.

I should be mad as hell. I should be so angry, but fuck that. I’m having such a good time right now watching Elle wrap her little hand around Dom’s throbbing cock and stroking it.

I won’t be able to stand it for much longer. This view is killing me and I don’t need to fantasise anymore. Dom is right next to me, our sides brushing together as he fucks my girlfriend’s hand and as I fuck her little and wet core.

I come first. I just let out a loud moan while my whole body trembles with pleasure before lying against my girlfriend’s sweaty chest. I wish I was done, but hearing the squelching noises besides me make me horny again. God I’m just turning on by listening to my girlfriend wanking my best friend. I’m sick. I’m fucking sick and I fucking like it.

I notice how Elle’s hand gets faster and faster up and down his cock. God I can even see how she spreads the few drops of precum all along his shaft. God I’m getting hard again at the sight of Dom’s erect dick. Fuck.

Slowly, I move away from my girlfriend and, though I could really use a good wank right now, I just zip my pants and stare at them. It’s a bit weird that he doesn’t take advantage of the space he now has.

He could easily grab her and fuck her or whatever. I gape at them but mostly at Dom, whose hands are just by his sides. The only thing that tells me he is enjoying it it’s his expression. His grey eyes are closed, his eyebrows frown and his lips a bit apart. A few drops of sweat fall down from his forehead and get lost in his collar.

God, he looks so damn fine like that. Again, another creepy image fills my head as I imagine myself licking that small drop of sweat with my tongue. I must stop. I can’t keep thinking this way. I. Must. Stop. Now.

Suddenly, I come back to reality just to see Dom moaning loudly and coming all over Elle’s still moving hand. That’s it. I’m fucking hard again and I can’t fucking hide it.

My girlfriend first looks at her dirty hand and then looks at me. For a tiny second, I thought I would see guilt in her eyes, but I was so wrong. She is daring me, defying me somehow. I stare at her too but when she speaks, my eyes fall back on Dom, who is still recovering from his orgasm.

“Kiss him, Matt.”

Her words go through me like a fucking sword. Did she just ask me to kiss my best friend? But, Elle is my girlfriend. Why would she do something like that? I gape at her, waiting for another comment, but it never comes.

Elle fixes her clothes as if nothing had just happened and I ask myself if it was all in my mind. However, out of the blue, I see Dom approaching me. Why is he coming closer? Why does he have that expression on his face?

He stops just a few inches away from my face and stares at me deeply. Oh my fucking God. Is he really…? Is Dom really about to fucking kiss me? I can’t kiss him. He is my best friend and nothing more. I love Elle and this fucking shit is so weird. I can’t, I can’t…

But God knows I’m dying to kiss those forbidden lips. I want to move, but my body has been petrified. I can’t go away neither get closer. Without saying a word, Dom leans even closer and I can feel his breath against my lips, drying them. I close my eyes because I can’t fucking take it anymore. I sense movement and when I feel Dom rubbing our lips together, I hear something awful and very unpleasant.

His phone. His fucking and stupid phone again.

My best friend moves away from me and grabs the annoying device and looks at the screen. I can’t see who’s calling and I don’t give a tiny fuck about it. Dom glances at me and then answers the call while stepping away from us.

I can’t help but staring at him the whole time he is on the phone. Why is he even talking? Weren’t we just having fun? What the hell does this mean?

“I have to go.” And after he has said those four words, he is gone.

Just like that. He is fucking gone.


	3. Chapters 4 and 5

_Four_

It’s three in the morning and I can’t sleep. I’m fucking plagued by uhtceare.

Usually, I would be working, because this is my working hour too, but I just really can’t cope with that now. I feel weird, disgusted with myself and above all, like fucking hell. I still don’t know what the fuck happened yesterday anyways.

However, that doesn’t mean I don’t remember; I wish I didn’t remember but… God, I remember every single detail, every moan, every touch, and every look.

On one hand, I haven’t even spoken to Elle. She sent me a text earlier asking me to talk, but I told her that I wasn’t feeling so well today, (which is damn true) so we postponed it for another day. God, I should be so fucking pissed at her right now… she made out with my best friend in front of me and gave him a wank. A fucking wank!

I mean… she is my girlfriend, for fuck’s sake. Although I want to be mad I just can’t. Maybe it’s because my poor state or maybe it’s not. I have no idea. I want to be pissed, I want to call Elle on the phone and yell at her: “you, slut, why did you make out with my best friend? Bitch!” and I would gladly punch Dom in the face a few times. Oh, yes. I would like that too.

What the fucking fuck, Matthew? Really? Am I being so blind? Am I being so unfair? I had the fault as well: I told them to go on; I had the power to stop it all and I didn’t do shit. In fact, Dom asked me if he could kiss Elle and I said yes. I gave them permission. God, I don’t know who is more fucked up right now: me or them. 

Dom, on the other hand, hasn’t even said a word to me since yesterday. Classy Dom. Well, I kind of understand him. I feel like hiding in my room under the bed drowning in shame after what’ve happened or… what almost happened. God, we almost fucking kissed. That’s not normal, that’s not right, not at all.

Why didn’t I stop him? Why did I just stand there and watched him getting closer and closer? What if his phone had never rang? What if nothing had stopped us? God, it would be so fucking awkward. God bless that annoying ringtone. 

Anyway, apart from all my fucking worries, today I was a total fail. I tried to do something productive before, but it was useless. I could barely get up on my feet and walk to the damn bathroom to take a leak and I couldn’t even eat a single thing.

After I’ve realised I wasn’t going to do much, I just watched some telly and smoked a damn cigarette in order to calm my nerves down a bit. It kind of worked, but I still feel like shit.

In fact, I have been staring at the damn phone for about half an hour, expecting a message from him. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to read: an apology? An insult? I really don’t know. But I wish he just sent something, anything.

Half past three.

Fucking hell. I’m fucking obsessed.

I remain lied on the bed for while staring at the locked screen wondering if it would be a good idea to call my friend and ask him to gather and talk. It shouldn’t be that hard, besides I think we do need that.

I open my contact’s list and I click on Dom’s name. Now I’m just a click away from him, if he dares to answer me. I want to call him; I don’t fucking care it’s half past three in the morning. I want to hear his reassuring voice, but I stop myself a second before I click on “Call”.

I can’t do it and I won’t.

It’s not a matter of pride. I just don’t have the strength nor the energy right now. Besides, sure he will just yell at me for annoying him so fucking early (or late?). Maybe tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow sounds good. If I feel better, tomorrow I can call him and face this shitty situation.

Still feeling like hell, I leave my phone on the nightstand next to me and, after ten minutes of watching a stupid and boring program on the telly, I end up turning it off for good.

Then, I let out a deep sigh as I stare at the dark ceiling, pondering. I’m scared to admit it but I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m damned, cursed. Is this awful feeling ever going to leave me alone?

***

In the end, I just couldn’t get off to sleep and the dark circles around my eyes now are getting even darker. I also couldn’t write a single line. God knows I tried. I think it was around five in the morning, after acknowledging that I wasn’t going to sleep, when I shuffled into my office, opened the laptop and stared at the article blankly. I wrote exactly two words and then erased them. That was all I could do.

After that poor attempt to do something, I just stayed like that for about an hour trying to focus. Of course, it was to no avail. Nothing came to my mind, well at least nothing related to the article.

The only thing my mind was focused on was my complex situation. I couldn’t stop replaying that instant in which Dom brushed his lips against mine. It just feels wrong in so many ways, but I can’t fight the feeling that, in that particular second, I fucking liked it. I was thrilled feeling my heart skipping in my chest, my hot breathing against his, our wet lips almost rubbing each other.

Yeah, well, I’m sick. Whatever. It is dawn now and the images in my head still haunt me like a fucking ghost.

That’s it. I just can’t handle this anymore. Feeling like hell, I go to the little cabinet in which I keep some old bottles and, from all of them, I choose a JD bottle. God bless Bourbon.

Sadly, I don’t get to drink it all and that’s a shame because I really like whisky. However, I pass out at seven or something of the sort, and it isn’t until two or three that I finally wake up with a terrible headache, and the awful noise of the fucking doorbell ringing.

Fucking son of a fucking cock-swallowing whore.

I don’t know how, but I manage to open my eyes and stand. God, the room is still fucking moving around me; it even feels like a fucking earthquake. In fact, in order to stand, I need to hold onto something; it doesn’t matter what. If I don’t, I’ll be kissing the floor.

I hear the fucking bell ringing again and, with a groan, I stagger bumping into the corridor walls, and when I finally reach the living-room, I feel as if my head will explode. I have no idea how it is that I get to the front door, but as long as the fucking bell doesn’t ring again, I guess I would do anything.

There are no mirrors around me and I don’t even bother with fixing myself to look more decent. Fuck that. When I finally manage to open the goddamned door and I find Dom’s disappointed expression, I let out a smile.

“Great,” I mumble as I rest my head on the threshold in order not to fall.

The sun is shining outside and the fucking light kills my eyes. God, I should have grabbed some sunglasses before.

Dom is still looking at me as if I’ve just insulted his mother. God his fucking glare is creeping me out.

“You’re drunk,” Captain Obvious says as he uncrosses his arms.

My stomach grumbles and I do all I can in order not to puke right there. Contain yourself, Bellamy. Fucking do it.

“No,” I deny Dom’s previous comment as I take a very long and deep breath. “I just have a hangover, Dom.” My head still rests on the same place and my eyes close a bit. 

“I’m pretty positive you are still drunk, Matt,” Dom insists as he takes a step towards me, trying to enter.

“Leave me alone,” I mutter before getting inside.

In fact, I’m about to close the door, but the fucker pushes it open and comes inside anyways, ignoring me.

“You are a mess,” he states after closing the door behind his back.

Gee, thanks mate. That was so thoughtful of you; I should invite you over more. Fucking twat.

“I’m the mess?” I ask as I back off and take a sit at the armchair of the couch. I can’t stand. If I don’t sit down, I’m going to fucking fall.  

I take a fast glance to Dom, who is standing right before me, piercing me with his angry look.

“Yes,” he begins with an annoyed look. “Look at yourself. Your whole life now revolves around that damn paper. You don’t even realise how bad you are,” he yells at me, making my head pound.

If he yells again, I’m going to punch him.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mister I-am-totes-fine, but let me tell you that you were fucking gone for two fucking years without even giving any fucking life signals,” I strike back feeling crossed. He can’t fucking scold me. He doesn’t have any authority over me. He can’t just come in my house and act like a crazy bitch. “You don’t cope with things better than me, Dom. So you better just shut up,” I add, trying to undermine him.

It seems that I haven’t done anything but piss him off even more. He then takes a few steps closer to me and grabs my collar, threatening me. I do nothing but watch. However, I feel a bit weird when the distance between us practically disappears. He is just a few inches away from my face.

God, I feel so awkward… I glance at his lips but I move my gaze away. I can’t be thinking about that right now; I need to focus. 

“I know I’m no better than you, but you know damn well I had an excuse to act like an idiot,” he excuses himself with flames burning in his angry grey eyes.

The next thing I say is a total mistake. I really don’t mean to say it, but it just comes out of my mouth. I’m not thinking clearly and I just want to fucking hurt him. I want him to back off and leave me alone, and I don’t really measure the consequences of my cold and heartless words.

“Yeah, cause it was your fucking fault your dad got killed,” I snap.

Dom gasps and lets me go instantly, yielding.

Shit. Fucking shit.

I can’t believe what I’ve just said. God, I’m such a cold-blooded bastard. I feel like hell, but, as I said before, I can’t really think straight. My head spins, my stomach turns, my eyes hurt: I’m a total mess, just like Dom previously said.

Fucking whisky. I just want to be alone, and Dom is not helping at all.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” I try my best to apologise, but it doesn’t come out so well.

“Whatever, yeah, you are right anyway,” Dom murmurs while glaring at me.

“No, Dom. God, I’m sorry. I just have an awful hangover and I feel like hell. Don’t mind me at all. I’m just saying nonsense.” My efforts to solve the shitty situation don’t work at all. The damage is done and Dom hasn’t changed the expression on his face.

“You should have thought about that before drinking all your whisky,” he declares after a few seconds of silence.

When I look at him again, he has regained his annoyed expression. Well, at least I’m glad he has forgotten my horrible response. He didn’t deserve that from me. I was an asshole.

“Whatever,” I mumble while massaging my temples in order to lessen the headache.

I choose not to look at him for a little while. I need to find stability and the fucking room still spins around me.

“When were you going to tell me you got sacked?” Dom’s voice comes to me with a disappointed and sad tone.

Oh, fuck. He knows.

I lift my head and gape at him. How is that he knows? Did Chris or Tom tell him about it? Well, I guess he was going to find out about it someday, so there’s no use in hiding it anymore.

“What?” I ask, avoiding the subject.

It’s embarrassing and I can’t stand the pity in his eyes.

“I know it, Matt. I went to the station today and they told me all about it.” His tone changes suddenly. He doesn’t seem that angry anymore. In fact, he seems concerned and worried. “They said you beat someone! They had to sack you after that. You left them no other choice.” His wide eyes are fixed on mine.

Yeah, well I may have done that. The asshole deserved it. However, I try to detour the matter.

“Suspend is the correct term. I’ve got temporally suspended,” I almost joke, but Dom doesn’t find it funny at all.

He frowns, feeling as if I had just taken him for a fool.

“Fuck the correct term. You’re unemployed,” he insists.

“They are still paying me at least, as if I was on vacation,” I try to defend myself as I regain the strength to stand.

God, when will the fucking room stop spinning?

“Matt, you hit someone, several times. Why would you do something like that? You can’t hit people, God. You didn’t hit people before,” Dom’s worried tone gets under my skin.

Hell yeah, I did and I’m not sorry for it. It was the right thing to do. And I don’t really care what he means by “before”. Too bad, friend. I have become this now, deal with it or explode.

“I know I did. It was Trent’s asshole attorney-in-fact or something like that. The fucking CEO had sent his little slut here in order to scare me. He wanted to bribe me, but I didn’t let him,” I explain as I remember that asshole showing up in the station and dropping a case full of money in front of me.

Of course, Dom wasn’t there to see it and nobody fucking believed me that, after his bribery, the said attorney explicitly threatened me to back away. Fucker. He didn’t know who he was messing with. I did what I had to do… what anyone with dignity would have done in that situation… I fucking beat the son of a bitch. 

“You were lucky he didn’t press charges against you, you idiot. But you still got your ass kicked out from the station,” Dom approaches me again.

This time I’m the one staring at him.

“He did it on purpose, Dom.” My words come out cold and serious.

However, he doesn’t seem to get my message, just like all the others didn’t get it either.

“What?” He asks completely confused.

“To stop me.”

“Stop you? From doing what?” Dom frowns, astonished.

“From carrying on with my investigation? They knew I had substantial evidence to sink them down. They wanted to wipe me away and I didn’t let them. So I guess they were pleased to know I was sa… “temporally suspended”, ” I say after a long sigh.

Dom doesn’t do anything for a few seconds. He just looks at me still frowning. However, out of the blue, he lets out a laugh, but I don’t find it funny. Why is he laughing at me? Isn’t he taking me seriously?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he declares right after he’s done.

Well, another one to the I-don’t-believe-Matt list.

“You know I’m not,” I say in a serious tone, but that isn’t enough to make him believe me.

Dom looks at me worried. His gaze has softened and his lips are now trembling.

“Matt, cut it out. This is worrying me now,” he declares cleaning his sweaty hands on both sides of his dark jeans.

“What?” I ask shocked by his last statement.

Did he really say that? This isn’t so bad, come on. He is over exaggerating with this.

“Stop writing your damn paper, Matt. That’s what I’m saying,” he commands me.

Fuck him. I certainly refuse to do such thing. Doesn’t he know that this is all that matters now? I can’t just stop. Not when I’m so fucking close to exposing their lies.

“I can’t do that and I won’t. I’m determined to screw them,” I declare without any regrets.

"Can’t you see you are screwing yourself?” Dom shakes his head, obviously feeling disappointed.

Whatever, I can’t please everybody. I will carry on with my project till the end; it doesn’t matter what happens.

“Whatever,” I mutter in a childish tone, but Dom is far from letting this go.

“No, Matt. God, just stop it. This needs to stop,” he asks me, worried, as he touches my shoulder.

“Why?” I shake him off roughly.

Dom looks at me with a sad expression and sighs before answering.

“Because you are destroyed. Look at yourself, please. You spend the whole day locked up in here doing nothing but writing and plotting this weird shit against these guys. You almost never go out, you don’t have a common relationship, you don’t see your other friends, and you don’t even see your family. In fact, you don’t see people at all,” he tries to make me understand and change my mind, but I’m not inclined to see it that way.

“Yeah and you are an example of life, Dominic,” I strike back rolling my blood-shot eyes.

Dom’s mood seems to worsen after that and he lets out a groan.

“Stop comparing yourself to me! God, I know I’m not perfect; but you have to just listen to me and stop writing it. It is changing you and making you… this,” he almost begs me.

I’m the changed one now? What the fuck? Just because I drink a bit more, eat less and stay at home doesn’t really mean I’m that “changed”. Well, maybe he is right… but come on! The fucker came home being a completely different person! He now speaks Russian, Japanese and who know what other languages. Really? I’m the changed one?

I look at him in silence and, even though he thinks he has a chance, I crush his little daydream with my dry response:

“Never.”

That’s it. No one can fucking change my mind and no one can fucking stop me.

“Matthew! Give it up already.” His worried voice tries to tangle me in it, but I’m not listening. I can’t listen because, deep inside, I know that he is right. I know that this has consumed me little by little. However, I can’t turn my back on this. There’s no way I’m letting those fuckers win. “This is beyond you,” he adds.

I know this will sound fucking creepy and stupid and you’ll probably not even believe me (one more guest to the notorious list, I suppose?); but right after Dom has said that, I hear him talking again.

It’s a whisper, and it’s almost impossible to hear, but I know I do hear it. I may be drunk, paranoid and all that shit, but I’m not mad. I’m not fucking insane and I swear to you, I even swear to God, that, although I’ve not been looking at Dom at that precise moment, these words escape his lips:

“ _You can’t win us,”_ he hisses.

I’m not delusional. I’m not hearing voices and certainly I haven’t made that up. Astonished, I lift my head and I remain very silent, listening and watching. Dom looks at me a bit confused, but doesn’t add anything else. He seems to be waiting for my response.

But how can I respond to that? Did he really just say that to me? In my head, a “play” button is pressed a hundred times and that very same verse is repeated over and over again. _You can’t win us, you can’t win us, you can’t win us_. Oh my fucking God. What does that mean? Is he doing this on purpose? Is he trying to mindfuck me somehow? What the fuck?!

“Did they… did they send you?” I dare to ask, trembling.

I’m nervous and fucking scared. Now that I think about it… there are so many blanks and holes in Dom’s trip. In fact, he has been to America (Trent’s headquarters) and to Moscow (Volkov’s) among other places, which also have their main offices.

Doesn’t he speak Russian like a fucking native? Where else has he been? What was that guy’s name? God, I can’t recall his stupid Russian name now. Is he also involved in all this? Did he contact Dom because he knew me? Did they know I could listen to his advice and give up everything? Does Dom work for them? Did my best friend really betray me?

The moment the little pieces start falling on the right places, my mind just makes a “click” and I stay speechless. Oh my fucking God. Is he really working with them? Is he really here to prevent me from exposing them?

In another situation, I think I would have just laughed at my own stream of thoughts. I mean, I know this doesn’t sound rational at all but… there’s no way you can understand me from your place. You haven’t seen, felt and heard everything I did.

God, my headache is killing me. 

“What?” Dom asks me frowning and squinting his eyes a bit.

“Did they send you?” I don’t know how is that I still have strength to talk, but I do.

“Who?” Does he really want to play this game? Fine, we shall play it all day long. It’s not like I have to be at the station early tomorrow. In fact, I don’t need to go anywhere at all.

“They. The CEOs. Did they ask you to come and make me change my mind about the project?” I ask, ignoring the painful pulse between my eyebrows.

I think that Dom doesn’t really get my question in the beginning. He just stands there looking at me as if I were a fucking lunatic. However, as he processes the information, his expression changes drastically.

“What the fuck?” He explodes. “Are you really asking me that? Are you listening to yourself? I’m your fucking friend, Matt,” Dom snaps raising his fucking voice.

I close my eyes for a second and, again, that fucking sentence appears in my mind: _You can’t win us_. He’s just said that and I’m not lying. 

I. Fucking. Heard. Him.

“Are you?” I think out loud and he hears me.

“I can’t believe this. I just can’t talk to you,” he yells, annoyed and disappointed.

Now that I know he has heard me, I strike back.

“Answer me, Dominic!” I scream.

Dom stares at me completely dumbstruck. I see something weird in his grey eyes and I just can’t quite put my finger on it, though I try to. I can’t even describe it, but when he speaks again, his voice has lowered; however, his nerves are about to explode.

“Nobody sent me,” he begins; his hands shaking. “God, why can’t you just accept that I’ve just finally come home?” I wish, but I know there’s some hidden motive. “I’m just a concerned friend. I want to take care of you. I don’t like what you are doing to yourself.”

“I don’t think so,” I deny every word of his.

“God, Matt. You fed me up. Look at what you are saying! You think some creepy guys from a Corporation I barely know have employed me, Dominic Howard, your best friend, to screw you. Do you really think it makes sense at all? Do you really see me working for assholes like them? Don’t you think that, in case that would have happened, I would have fucking refused? I would never betray you, Matt. Please listen to me. Can’t you see how fucked up all this weird shit sounds?” He begs me with his eyes filled with fear and panic.

God, hearing it from another person is weird. It doesn’t sound as convincing as it did in my head. He may be fucking right about it. What if I’m losing my mind to this? What if I just made up that voice? What if…? Oh for fuck sake, I can’t believe this is actually happening to me. I’m not insane; I can’t be, can I?

“Dom…” I mumble trying to explain him, but he cuts me off.

“No, you don’t need anyone to screw you, because you are already fucked up with your paranoia. You don’t even trust me. Do you trust Elle? Chris? Tom? Your parents? Are all of them also here to harm you and betray you?” He yells at me, furious.

I shake my head as I approach him.

“Stop it,” I try to put an end to this, but Dom isn’t done yet.

“No! You stop it and listen to yourself, you crazy fucking psycho,” he shouts.

That’s it. I need to think and I need silence and peace to do that. I need him out now.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” I order him pointing the door.

Dom obeys and walks towards the door and, before leaving, he turns to glare at me as if we were archenemies.

“Gladly, lunatic. Good luck with your conspiracy theories, mad man. You are fucking alone from now on,” he adds before disappearing out the door.

A voice in my mind suddenly appears and whispers into my ear: “ _You are done_.”

Fuck. It’s right. I’m fucking done.

***

_Five_

I’ve called Elle finally to talk after I’ve had a proper meal. I had to oblige myself to eat because my stomach didn’t feel like it, but I can’t just keep skipping meals.

Luckily, Elle was available after dinnertime and she came over and we talked about it. It’s fine now. Thank God it’s all over now. It really is fine. I still can’t believe I wanted to yell at her and call her a “bitch”.

When I saw her pretty eyes swollen from crying, I felt the knot inside my throat tighten even more. Between sobs, she just came running into my arms, crying and asking for forgiveness. God, I had to forgive her. I just couldn’t stand looking at her like that.

I’m such an idiot.

After we’ve fixed everything, we decided to omit that unfortunate moment and try to act as if it never happened. Then, we spent some time together at the couch, where I told Elle a bit about today’s fight with Dom, and she didn’t like it much. She called me psycho between giggles when she heard my theories, and then kissed me on my forehead.

I really didn’t mind it at all. She could call me whatever she wanted and I would be okay with that. 

*** 

_Hey, it’s Dom. I’m not available right now, but, please, leave a message after the tone._

I have heard that fucking line so many times in these two years. He used to have the exact same voicemail when he had his previous phone.

Fuck. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Anyway, Elle insisted that I should call him and say sorry. I know I behaved like an idiot and that I said some horrible stuff.

I stand still and silent thinking if I should leave him a message or not. When will he listen to it? Will he even listen to it? What if he just deletes it without even caring? No, I should speak to him.

A few seconds of silence and the sound of my breathing are recorded, but I really don’t mind. I just end the call with a long sigh, and look up at the ceiling recalling our argument.

_Yeah, ‘cause it was your fucking fault your dad got killed_. I can’t believe I said that to him. But, what strikes me the most are the guts I have to call him and, in case he agrees on seeing each other, look him in the eyes again.

I must be crazy. 

Even though I’ve screwed it up badly, I need to fix it all with Dom. I don’t want him to be upset with me forever. I need my friend, and I know I said the worst nonsense before. God, I was just fucking drunk. I could have said fucking unicorns were real and dancing around us.

I stare at Dom’s number for a while and, before I decide to try again, I let out a small smile when my eyes fix on the little picture of him besides the number. I remember that day, when I took it.

It was a few years ago and we were at work. Well, in fact, we were just leaving the station. He wasn’t paying attention to me because he was focused on calling a random colleague. Mmm, I can’t recall her name, but she was pretty. And pretty busty too, the way Dom likes his girls. Wanker.

Anyway, he wasn’t looking in my direction when I took the picture, and I only caught him staring at his phone. He had a funny expression on his face, and I didn’t mind showing it to everybody the following day. Of course, he got mad at me, but, come on. What are best friends for then?

That’s it. I’m not giving up yet, and less without a fucking fight. I click on the call button and I wait impatiently. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I’m still waiting; and when I think his voicemail is going to pop up, someone finally answers the call.

I feel like an idiot standing there, completely voiceless.

“H-hey,” I stammer, breaking the awkward silence.

For a brief moment, I don’t hear anything, not even his breathing, which creeps me out. When I’m about to say something, he cuts me off.

“What do you want?” He barks, almost making me jump. I wasn’t expecting a nice hello, but that was so “un-dom” of him. While I stutter for a second, I can imagine his angry look piercing me, with his little eyebrow cocked at me. “You know, I’m too busy plotting a way to screw you even more with my CEO friends, so I really hope you do have a good reason to call. And make it fast because it’s brainstorming time, you know?” His annoyed and ironic tone makes me smile, though he doesn’t find anything of this funny at all.

I want to crack up and laugh, but I contain myself. God, he is really pissed off at me. Well, why wouldn’t he be? I was such an asshole before. I deserve his anger and his resentment.

“Ha, ha, you are funny tonight,” I really try to break the ice, but Dom isn’t pleased with my comment.

I listen to him sigh, and I can even picture him lowering his head and glaring at me; his eyes almost hidden behind his dark fringe.

“So why did you call? To yell at me?” He asks, fed up.

Well, I guess it’s showtime again.

“Because I wanted to say sorry, Dom,” I quaver while sitting down on the bed.

Dom lets out a dark and lifeless laugh. 

“Really?” He answers me back. Either he is enjoying this Matt-is-losing-his-dignity moment, or he isn’t going to forgive me that easily. Damn, I really hope it isn’t the latter, because, otherwise, I’m fucked. “I thought I was one of the bad guys. In fact, I thought you didn’t even consider me your friend anymore,” he reminds me of my stupid and cold words.

Yeah, I really shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, stop that. I was half drunk when I said that, and I didn’t even know what I was saying,” I ramble with my own words.

“Yeah, I certainly noticed that,” Dom agrees with me and, for a moment, he doesn’t add anything else. I don’t dare to break the silence this time. God, what if he has hung up on me? “So…” I let out a relaxed sigh when I confirm he is still there with me.

“So I want you to come here,” I say, before he can start reminding me of the asshole I am. “I want to show you something,” I add as I stand up and leave my room.

“What?” Dom asks me when I enter the office.

I face the closed laptop and then, I look at the big piece I have hung on the wall. It’s some kind of landscape full of vivid colours with two people walking across it. It’s really ugly. I don’t know what the fuck was going on with the painter who made it, but it looks as if he or she had fucking Parkinson’s disease or some kind of severe neurosis.

Well, the thing is, I’ve never liked that freaking picture; but since I’ve got it, it has been useful to me. When I saw it displayed among other horrible paintings two years ago, in that second-hand fair, I knew it was perfect. And, since then, it has been “decorating” my office and, well… it also serves another important purpose.

“I want you to understand me, Dom,” I say when I go back to reality, forgetting about the painting for the moment. “I want you to know that this is important to me, and the only way you will do that is if you understand it too,” I try to explain to him as simple as I can.

Dom doesn’t answer immediately. His heavy breathing suggests me that he is thinking, analyzing all his possible options.

“Whatever,” he finally says.

“So will you come? Come before dinnertime,” I ask hoping that I haven’t sounded too demanding.

Maybe a good glass of wine can help him “dissuade” his anger little by little. Anyway, there’s no way to know if Dom will come tonight, because right after I have invited him, he hangs up the phone, leaving me speechless and completely alone.


	4. Chapters 6 and 7

_Six_

Well, I haven’t cooked anything because, firstly, I can’t cook; and, secondly, because I really doubt Dom is going to show up tonight. I can warm some pizza from who-knows-when and that’ll be it. I have been writing a bit before, which has left me feeling a bit better with myself.

It’s eight on the dot, and I’ve just sent a text to my girlfriend, wishing her a nice day tomorrow at school, when the bell rings. Oh, God. Is it Dom? Has he accepted my invitation?

Feeling my heart racing, I go the front door and I fling it open.

“Hi,” he mutters with his arms crossed and his gazed fixed in the threshold above me.

“I didn’t think you’d come tonight,” I start saying, but when I see him glaring at me, I change the subject. “But I’m glad you are here. Please come in,” I invite him politely as I step away from the door to let him inside.

Dom enters, still glaring at me.

“And I’m glad you don’t smell like whisky. You are annoying and stupid when you are drunk,” he states with a dark tone.

I nod because I know he is fucking right about it.

“Well, I have different plans for tonight. Come with me,” I instruct him as I make my way through the living-room, into the corridor.

Dom follows me completely silent. His pace is so quiet; I’m scared he has gone away. Before arriving at my office, I turn around to check if he is still with me. Luckily, he hasn’t escaped yet. Dom is right behind me with an annoyed look on his face.

“So? Are we gonna stand up here all night long? If that’s so, I better get going,” he declares, cocking an eyebrow at me and crossing his arms.

Dom’s mood isn’t the best and it’s my fucking fault. Why can’t I just learn to be nice, polite and caring like him? I should learn a thing or two from this guy.

“No, come inside. Let me show you my work,” I kind of ignore his nasty comment as I open the door of the office and step in.

I turn on the lights and walk up to the table, where the laptop lies. Dom comes right after me, frowning.

“Your work?” He asks feeling a bit surprised and confused at the same time.

I don’t turn to look at him yet. My eyes are glued to my tool.

“Yeah,” I finally answer turning it on and opening the file for Dom to see.

“But…” his voice trembles and he cuts himself off before adding anything else.

“But?” I repeat as I turn my head to look at him, who is giving me this puzzled look.

“It’s still unfinished?” He tries to explain.

Yeah, whatever. I haven’t finished it. Not by far. But who cares? I really doubt I will change it a lot. Besides, I’m not supposed to be working on this, so my editor won’t want to even hear from it. I guess I will have to publish it the way it is. Well that didn’t seem to convince him at all.

“So?” I ask.

“So… I thought it was your golden rule or something like that?” Dom is still frowning behind me.

“Well, not anymore. Fuck that,” I declare as I go to the picture hanging on the wall and giving it a long stare. “I’m going to show you everything, and you’ll believe me because you’ll see I’m damn right about these assholes.” My voice comes out confident, strong, as if I was preacher trying to convert my best friend into some kind of unholy religion.

“Well, we shall see about that,” Dom mutters to himself.

Under Dom’s astonished look, I take the painting away and put it on the wooden floor, next to me and, then, my secret is exhumed. Dom gapes at the safe in the wall completely surprised. It’s not particularly big; in fact, it is pretty small, nothing like the movies show. I don’t know what crosses his mind, but I don’t give him a lot of time to think about it. I just dial the code and open it.

Inside I keep all my evidence, all the copies of the different files, records, transactions, forms, receipts: all the data I could gather from Trent’s office here in London. After giving them a look, I take all the folders, images and papers and leave them on the desk for Dom to see too.

First he doesn’t seem up to it. His reluctant expression suggests to me that he is going to leave me there, standing all alone by myself. However, after a few seconds, he gets closer and, before even touching the small pile, he gives me a warning look.

“Look at them, please. I want you to know all I know,” I offer him all my secret information with an encouraging look. I have never done this before. No one before saw the data; not even my boss. I just told him I had important and substantial evidence to support my work.

Dom frowns again as he focuses his attention on the folders in front of him. My mouth is completely dry, but I swallow anyway when I see him opening the first folder labeled: “Bank Accounts and Transactions”. It’s not a big one, but the information in it is crucial.

For a long while, I stare at how Dom opens each folder, watches each document and reads all the information in them. His eyes seem to scan all the information in seconds, but the material is broad, so he just sits against the desk, with many folders around him, and reads and reads while I stare at him, waiting.

I hear some gasps and murmurs, but I don’t say a thing. I try to contain myself as he closes the folder labeled: “Charity”, and opens another one called: “Accomplices”. I study his features, his breathing, his grip: everything that can suggest me what is going on in his mind right now.

Dom doesn’t say anything either as his grey eyes wander up and down the files in front of him. I want to hear him talk. I need to listen to some kind of confirmation that he has understood my work, my mission. In order not to bother him, I take a seat in the chair, giving him all the space he needs against the desk.

He is neat. He doesn’t leave the files scattered around; in fact, he puts them away into the specific folder they belong to, and puts them aside, almost with a delicate touch. Does Dom see my point now? Does Dom understand me? Can he forgive me for my erratic behavior now that he has seen the atrocity I’m confronting?

Once he has closed the last folder and has put it aside in the little pile, I point at my laptop and I just let him read the article I’m still working on. I haven’t concluded it yet, but he will see all the evidence embodied in there. He won’t deny I’m right.

“Where and how did you manage to get these?” It’s the first question that comes out of his mouth after his eyes have left the screen and have landed on mine.

“I kind of… borrowed them,” I answer with a wicked smile on my lips.

Dom opens his mouth and then closes it, completely astonished.

“You stole them?!” He shouts as his gaze returns to the folders next to him. “How the fuck would you steal something like this anyway?” He asks pointing at them.

“I have my ways, Dom.” I shrug, still sitting in the chair.

“I want to know,” Dom starts insisting.

Well, the cat is out of the bag now.

“I went undercover,” I begin and his eyes go wider and wider. “And before you say anything, I didn’t take anything with me. I just took pictures with my phone of every paper I could find,” I add.

“What?” He exclaims shaking his head.

“I’m a journalist, Dom. You should know about that.”

Again, I shrug, feeling pleased with myself.

“How did you even go in there? You went to the headquarters in America?” His inquiry continues.

“Not really. No money for that. If I had had backup from the station, that would have been possible. Anyway I scheduled a meeting with someone at H.R. here in London. Of course, it was all a façade and, luckily, I had someone on the inside that could help me get in the local office,” I explain as it were something common.

“Who?” Dom’s nerves are about to explode.

“Does it matter?”

“How did you find this?” Immediately, after acknowledging I wasn’t going to reveal my partner’s identity, he changed his question.

“I went to the main office while Brenson, Trent’s little British bitch, was at a meeting. I knew he would be out that day at that time, so that’s why I scheduled the “appointment.” Anyway I had to hurry the fuck up and I would have loved to search for more data, but that was all I could find. Did you know there are no cameras in his floor? I’m sure they use old tapes to cover their asses from security checks and all that, if they haven’t bribed them already. Fucking bastards, anyway, that helped me a lot when I had to trespass. Avoiding security was tough, but not impossible,” I relate him my odyssey very briefly, omitting details.

Dom just looks at me very confused, with his jaw hanging. 

“I can’t believe this. Someone could have seen you, Matt.” His perplexed stare descends to the folders again.

“No one did,” I defend myself as if I was arguing with my mother. “It was risky, but I took pictures of every file I came across with. I couldn’t access his computer, though. It would have been great to do so.” Of course, it had a password and I didn’t have enough resources to know the damn code.

“And they never suspected it was you? They never reported anything?” He asks me, still doubting the veracity of my story.  

“How could they? I used a fake ID and I didn’t take anything with me. It was as if nobody ever went in.”

Dom shakes his head and comes closer to me. His grey eyes are still filled with panic and astonishment.

“Matt…” he grabs me by my shoulders, and for a moment, I think he is going to tell me to stop inventing stuff and stop being delusional. “As you’ve put it before, “they are one of the most powerful corporations in the world”. Don’t you think they let you walk out? How is that they didn’t even notice you? It seems weird and… I don’t know.”

I let out a confident smile.

“Nah, I think they didn’t even find out about it before it was too late. And they can be fooled too, they aren’t invincible.” I’m proud. I have, indeed, fooled the assholes.

Dom frowns and lets me go. Yeah, I can imagine this whole situation is a bit too much to digest at once.

“Why didn’t you go the press after you… borrowed all… this?” Dom splutters.

“Well… it wasn’t that easy, you know? Although the answers are there, I had to do some digging up. They are idiots, but I really doubt they would point me where to look and where not to look. Some of the information I found wasn’t useful at all.  Besides, it took me time to catch on their ghost corporations and their façade, and on the stolen money. That was when I had to research and ask… and that was also when they found out there was a rat digging into their corrupt business.”

“You are completely and utterly nuts,” Dom finally states.

I laugh, not feeling insulted at all.

“I have been called worse. Do you believe me now?” I ask a bit nervous.

Dom avoids my eyes this time. He looks at the files and then at the laptop. He is pondering it; he is asking himself what’s the right thing to do. Deep inside, he knows I’m right. He has seen it all. He can’t deny what’s in front of his own eyes.

“I guess I have no choice. But you could… you know, still be yourself. You don’t have to sink with them,” Dom’s worried voice makes me smile.

“I’m not sinking, Dom. I’m fine,” I declare as I make my way to the open door. “Whatever, let’s go and eat something.” It’s still early and we have all night to discuss this matter.

Besides, my stomach is rumbling. Incredibly, I’m fucking hungry right now. That’s funny. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this hungry.

“I can’t believe this,” Dom mumbles as he leaves his place and follows me into the kitchen.

Cold pizza, you are my next victim.

Well, we talk a lot over the cold (now warm) slices of pizza. In fact, I don’t even remember talking that much before. Dom asks me questions and I just answer as much as I can. We start talking about the article and all that; but, when he runs out of questions about it, it’s my turn to ask him something.

I need to know what he thinks about that “pseudo-kiss” we almost had. Neither of us has brought it into the conversation and it’s time to finally tackle this.

“I know it’s fucking awkward,” I begin after I have placed the empty glass of wine next to my dish. “But, were you really going to kiss me?” I ask in a kind of sheepish tone.

Dom takes a big bite of his slice of pizza and then looks at me.

“What?” He asks with his mouth full.

Yeah, well I guess I’ll have to repeat myself. Damn.

“That. Were you going to kiss me?” I say it again, feeling nervous. My heart starts pounding in my chest and my breath gets heavy. “I’m just curious, nothing else. I’m not trying to argue or anything,” I quickly let him know.

Dom stares at me for a second, thinking. Well, he seems lost in his mind for a little while, but when he answers me, I realise there isn’t much more to it.

“I don’t know. My mind was a blur and I didn’t know what I was doing at the moment. I could have run naked among the other people at the party and I wouldn’t have found that weird at all,” Dom states shrugging.

I nod and let out a wicked smile. Well, at least now I know he doesn’t suffer from some sort of infatuation with me. That’s good, that’s really good.

“Yeah, that’s your secret fantasy, fucking wanker.” Oh, how I love to bother him.

Dom shakes his head and swallows.

“Come on,” he laughs, trying not to choke. “Anyway, I was shocked the day after that,” he admits lowering his gaze and blushing. Aw, that’s adorable. Cute bastard. “I couldn’t believe what I’ve almost done. I’m sorry. Guess we were lucky my phone rang at the exact same moment,” he sighs and then takes a long sip of his wine.

His phone. God, what’s up with it? Why so many strange calls in the middle of the night? I look at my friend, who finishes his slice, and then I keep on asking.

“Yeah… so who was that?” I frown.

“On the phone?” Dom says after cleaning the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“Yes.”

He puts it aside and looks at me, confused.

“Why do you wanna know? Are you my girlfriend or what?” He tries to joke and, of course, detour the conversation, but I’m not giving up so easily.

“Are you seeing someone?” Although I would be glad to see Dom happily tangled to someone, my words come out wrong. Again, I sound like a stupid psycho girlfriend. God, he must think I’m a weirdo.

“No!” He laughs looking at me.

“Then? Was it your Russian friend again?” I demand a simple answer.

Dom bites his lip, swallowing his laughter.

“Are you always this controlling?” He asks me and, right after he has said that, he shakes his head again, feeling stupid. “Well what am I even saying? Of course you are. It’s you,” he declares while smiling.

Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, wanker.

“I’ve answered everything you wanted, Dom!” I strike back in order to get a response.

I’m in all my right. I told him everything and I was one hundred percent sincere and honest to him. He owes me that too.

“God, yeah it was him. So what?” He exclaims raising his hands up in the air.

“So, nothing. I just wanted to know.” I sound jealous. But I’m not. I’m not fucking jealous. “Why does he call you so much?” Yeah, I’m fucking jealous of a fucking Russian guy I don’t even know.

“Because we keep in touch with each other.” His answer is shit, but whatever. He takes another bite of his new slice of pizza. “He is a cool guy,” he adds smiling.

Then we just fall silent. We concentrate on our food and just eat, completely shut. Well, damn, this is fucking awkward already.

“Where did you meet?” I ask after his dish is empty like mine.

Dom grabs his glass and plays with it between his thumb and his index finger, as if he were some sort of sommelier.

“At the subway station in Moscow,” he finally replies before having a long drink.

“Ah. Did he teach you Russian?” I keep on asking, which makes Dom smile.

After he has finished his glass too, he leaves it next to his dish.

“He helped me to improve it and polish it,” Dom explains, feeling confident and happy.

Well, I’m glad. It seems that guy isn’t that bad at all.

“That is good, I guess. I never had you for someone who liked languages and all that,” I shrug and stretch my back, feeling a bit tired.

Dom lets out a laugh and stands up to help me with all the dishes.

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” Dom states with that charming smile only he possesses.

“That is, indeed, a fact,” I agree, standing up as well.

This man will never seize to surprise me. And when I say never, I mean it. 

We chat for about another hour and, then, we just doze off on the couch. Yeah, well I guess we are kind of grannies after all? I sleep for a long while like a fucking baby, snoring and sprawled on the sofa.

In fact, when I open my eyes and the clock on the wall to my right flashes the number three, I just groan and go back to sleep.

I don’t know how much time has passed and I don’t know where Dom is. Either way, I’m still sleeping (I think? I can’t assure anything) when, suddenly, I feel movement next to me. I don’t think I’m awake; in fact, this feels much like a dream. Anyway, I just remain in that creepy semi-conscious state in which I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not. Am I?

I hear Dom’s footsteps walking across the living room. His pace is quiet and very slow. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. I don’t know what he is doing, but I feel so fucking tired and this is sure just another dream so I just stay where I am, motionless. Besides, if this is another fucking dream, why should I even pay attention to it?

“ _Net, net, on yeshcho ne znayet._ _Da u nego yest' mnogo. On mozhet unichtozhit' nas skoro_ ,” I hear him distantly. His voice sounds weird, empty and monotonous.

Am I really dreaming with Dom speaking in Russian? Wow. I have always wondered what the fuck happens in our brains when we dream and speak in another language we don’t even know. That’s amazing and fucked up at the same time.

Anyway, I don’t see him. I can’t see him; my eyes are closed and I’m doing all I can in order to rest. Whatever, let him speak in Russian, Japanese, French or whatever the hell my fucked up brain feels like. I’m tired and sleepy and that’s it. I’m heading back to sleep, if I’m not doing that already.

***

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head. Rise and shine.”

God, has he really just said that? He can’t be that bad. But guess what? It’s Dom, so yeah it can be that bad. Who is the psycho girlfriend now? After a groan, I open my eyes very slowly and, when the light hurts my eyes, I cover them with my hand.

“What time is it anyway?” I ask sitting on the couch after letting out a yawn.

When I open my eyes properly, I see Dom smiling next to me. He seems radiant and very fine. Well, the fucker always looks happy as hell. I kind of envy him for that.

“Half past ten,” he answers with a happy note.

“Well, it could have been worse,” I yawn again as I scratch my eyes. God, I’m lazy. “What’s that smell?” I ask after my stomach rumbles and a delicious smell fills my nostrils.

“I was making breakfast. I was hungry and I thought you would be too,” he explains waving a fork in hand.

I nod and, for the first time, I notice he has left his phone on the little table in front of me. It’s weird because since Dom came back, I didn’t see him leaving it out of his sight.  That’s when I recall my dream. It wasn’t that weird at all. The only fucked up part was the Russian part. I really doubt my brain could reproduce it; I’m sure it was all nonsense and guttural sounds.

Anyway, the thing is that, right after the dream has come to me; a knot in my chest tightens, warning me about something, like an imminent threat. Again? Haven’t I put this behind me already? Why the fuck am I being paranoid again?

Dom gives me a smile and returns to the kitchen to take care of the breakfast.

God, I’m such an asshole, but I need to do this. If I don’t, I won’t be able to rest. Fucking paranoia.

“Hey,” I call him from my place on the couch while glancing at his phone, “you know, my phone hasn’t been working well and I lost some contacts. I wanted to call Chris and I can’t find him in the list. Sure you have him, mind if I borrow yours?” I make up that fake and stupid story as I speak.

I thought that Dom would come running making excuses to hide his phone back in his pocket, but, again, he surprises me.

“Sure, I think I’ve left it there with you,” he says from the kitchen. He hasn’t even leant out to check that I wasn’t doing anything. That also surprises me. “It’s unlocked!” He also adds after focusing on the breakfast.

Well that wasn’t hard at all, was it? In fact, it kind of makes me feel less worried and the tension inside me lessens a bit. If Dom wanted to hide something, he wouldn’t have lent me his unlocked phone, would he?

What if I’m just being suspicious again for nothing? A stupid dream is nothing, God. It’s no surprise I’m a bit concerned about Dom and all this shit we’ve been through. It’s common I’ve dreamt about that. Maybe I’m even traumatised.

I go through his contact list looking for “Chris’s number” and, when I hear steps in the kitchen, I rapidly go back to the letter C, but it was just a false alarm. After checking that Dom isn’t coming into the living room, I go back to the letter I was just looking for.

Well, he doesn’t have many numbers and I couldn’t even find Chris’s. I may have skipped it without even noticing. Anyway, for a few seconds I stare at the Russian name on the screen, wondering if it’s a good idea to do what I’m about to do.

It’s my only chance, so fuck it, I will do it. I press “call” and I take the device to my ear. I listen to the ringing tone for about five seconds and, then, someone answers my call. I expected to hear “hi” in Russian or, at least, some weird and long word, but I hear nothing.

I want to say something, but I’m afraid to. What can I even say? “Hi, it’s Matt, Dom’s English friend. I just called to check you weren’t another weird psycho.” Clearly not. For a moment, I stay very still, listening. I know there’s someone on the other side of the phone: I can hear his slow and quiet breathing. He knows I’m not Dom, otherwise, he would have said something to me.

I still do not do anything at all. I just listen for any particular sound. When I start thinking about ending the useless call, I finally hear something. It’s music and it’s old as fuck. I don’t know the composer nor the song itself, but I can say that it’s not something I would categorise under “new and trendy”. In fact, it’s creepy and dark. It’s fucking creepy and dark.

The volume is not very high, but I can listen to it perfectly. I hear a strange and sinister mixture of instruments that, though it is intense, it makes my stomach turn and my hands sweat: Violins, cellos, pianos and the very dramatic high-pitched scary voice of a woman fill my ear and makes me fucking shiver in horror.

God, it’s uncanny, almost surreal, and it would even make the bravest man tremble in fear. Who the hell composed this creepy piece? It sounds as if it came from hell itself.

Suddenly, I hear a distant voice. It’s a murmur and it’s very low. I don’t recognise a single word; for I take he is speaking in Russian. But he isn’t speaking to me, I think. He is far from the phone and he seems to be talking to the person who have just answered me. God, what the fucking hell? Who the fuck is there?

“Coffee is ready!” Dom’s voice startles me out of the blue.

I end the call abruptly and leave Dom’s phone back on the table, feeling nervous. Some drops of sweat descend from my forehead and I wipe them away with my hand before Dom enters the living-room with a steaming cup.

“Thanks,” I murmur as I take it between my hands and take a long sip.

God, my heart is still pumping like mad in my chest and the chills running down my spine haven’t yet subsided. I’m fucking perplex and scared. Who are these people that call Dom so much? Why does he answer them? Has he listened to that hellish music too?

I wish I could answer them, but I can’t without giving myself away. I guess time will tell? Otherwise, I will never know.

“Are you fine? You seem frightened about something,” Dom gets closer to me as he notices my goose bumps.

“Yeah, just chilly,” I answer as fast as I can.

“Could you find Chris’s number?” He asks as he grabs his phone and gives it a look.

“Yeah, thanks mate. I’ll call him later,” I declare hiding behind my cup.

Dom just smiles and returns to the kitchen to fetch our breakfast. Well, I really hope he doesn’t check his previous calls because he will see my call there and he will get mad at me for not trusting him again.

I know I’m a bad friend and I know I have betrayed Dom’s trust but… this isn’t a coincidence, is it? This just can’t be normal, can it? Dom is up to something, I just don’t know what.

“Hey friend, here, for you.” He hands me a trail full of delicacies he’s just made for us.

“Thanks, again,” I say feeling terribly sorry for being such a bad friend to him.

I should really stop with this crazy theory but…

*** 

_Seven_

I haven’t planned this. In fact, this turned out to be a complete surprise for me too. Elle and I went out to have dinner to a fancy place since tomorrow is our anniversary. Yeah, cute and cheesy. Anyway, tomorrow she is coming to my place to have a nice and private dinner alone, so tonight we’ve decided to spend it out.

But I wanted to impress her a bit, so I really didn’t mind paying for it tonight. I guess my poor wage went to hell, but it was for a good cause. Elle is happy and that makes me happy too.

Anyway, on the way home, I don’t even realise the road we were taking and when I read Dom’s street, I feel a knot in my stomach, and I am certain it has nothing to do with the spaghetti I’ve had an hour ago.

I slow down the car and I stare at the houses on my left, looking for the right one. Dom and I don’t live that close; that’s why I didn’t think on visiting him earlier. Besides, I’m sure his place is a mess with people since he came back: his family, his other friends… Dom is a pretty popular person, unlike me.

“Why are we stopping here?” Elle’s voice drags me back to reality when I park the car in front of the house I was looking for. The street is almost dead and the houses next to Dom’s are completely dark, but the ones that are a bit further have light inside.

When I step out of the car, I feel goose bumps again. God, am I scaredy-cat nowadays or what?

“Stay in the car,” I command her before I close the door.

It’s a bit chilly outside tonight compared to yesterday, and the jacket I’m wearing seemed sufficient enough to fight back the cold in the air. However, this cold isn’t around me, but inside me; and, sadly, no jacket or blanket will take that away. 

“What? Where are we, Matt?” I hear Elle’s confused voice between all the disturbing and annoying noises in my head.

Dom is a good friend, he is a good person. Why the fuck am I standing in the middle of the street at night staring at his house? Why do I even keep on doubting after everything? Is it because of that call? I couldn’t get it out of my head since I’ve ended it.

God, this weird shit has been haunting me since yesterday. That fucking eerie music… that gloomy voice, that melody from hell… Fucking hell. I even hear it when everything is too quiet and I’m completely alone. Does that label me as “insane”? God, I don’t want to be mad, please, don’t tell me I am.

I don’t hear Elle’s voice anymore, so I guess she’s just obeyed me and stayed put in the car waiting for me. Still feeling nervous, paranoid and completely confused, I open the little gate and I make my way through the path to the main door.

Of course, it’s locked, and when I ring the bell no one comes out. Well, Dom may have gone out to somewhere. Why am I still standing on the porch? What am I doing here exactly? Waiting for something to happen? Waiting for him to come up and invite me in? Or am I here to confirm my surreal and stupid theories?

Whatever, I must be suffering from severe anxiety or something of the sort. I have no idea how psychologists nowadays would label my erratic and incomprehensible behavior. Yeah, well I guess that’s the answer: I’m fucking mental and I need a really good shrink. A few seconds later, after nothing has happened around me, I reprehend myself for being so stupid and distrustful.

If Dom saw me… God. He would be so pissed off at me.

When I’m about to turn round and leave for once, something catches my attention from the corner of my eyes. I’m not sure what was it, but I simply stay there, wondering. Frowning, I approach the window and I peep through the small aperture between the white curtains inside the house.

Well I can tell you it’s fucking dark inside and there’s not much to see, but I can assure you this: The few furniture I manage to see is covered with many blankets, as if Dom had abandoned his place and moved away.

What the fucking fuck?

Has Dom moved away? When did he? Why hasn’t he told me about it? It’s not that I can see very clearly, but his place looks dusty, uncared-for and completely abandoned, as if he never put a foot inside his house for… two years.

No, this is impossible. Dom hasn’t lied to me about this. I know he hasn’t, I mean… he has been caring with me, just like his old self was. Why would he do something like that? And to me? Why would he lie after I have shown him everything, after I have told him everything?

“What the hell is going on?” I hear Elle approaching.

I turn round, but not because Elle’s footsteps are coming closer to me, but because I can’t stand looking at Dom’s nearly empty and forsaken house. It’s creepy and completely bizarre.

“Nothing, let’s go back,” I mutter, feeling nervous and as if I was in a dream.

I wish I was, but I’m not. Not this time.

I grab Elle by the wrist and I take her back to the car as quickly as I can. That’s it. I’m done caring about this shit. I just can’t take it all at the same time… my underage girlfriend, my complex best friend, the assholes I’m dealing with. I just can’t.

“What’s just happened out there? Who were you stalking?” Elle asks me, confused and a bit nervous as well.

“No one, never mind,” I try my best to change the subject.

Elle stares at me for a brief moment while I put the key in the ignition and start the car. Luckily, she doesn’t add anything else, but her eyes don’t leave me yet. I have to stand her serious gaze all the way back home, in which neither of us says a single word. I don’t even bother turning on the radio. I don’t need more noise up here in my head.

However, I’m also afraid to hear it again. I don’t want to hear the damn melody again. It fucking creeps me out. But having Elle next to me somehow keeps me distracted from it.

“Are you ok, Matt?” Elle suddenly whispers right after I have parked the car opposite my place.

I turn my head to look at her properly and, though I want to say no and tell her everything, I hold back. I’ve already shared some of my concerns with her and she laughed, just like anyone who is sane would have done.

I let out a sigh and nod as a strange feeling overcomes me. This warning in my head gets even bigger and bigger, but I ignore it. I’ve decided that I wasn’t going to keep on thinking like that of Dom.

God, he is my best friend. He has finally come back home after all the shit that happened to him. I’m unfair and an asshole if I intend to judge him again. Maybe he just wanted to move out and start over somewhere else, and maybe he decided not to tell a soul for now. Why the fuck not?

He is free to do as he pleases. That particular thought relieves me of my stress and anxiety and, thanks to that, I let out a small smile. Elle’s tension dissipates a bit too when she sees me smiling.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s get inside,” I tell her after placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

Elle’s smile gets wider and nods. I love her and I wouldn’t stand it if something happened to her. I don’t want her to be worried about me. And I don’t want to be worried either. This has to end once and for all.


	5. Chapters 8 and 9

_Eight_

In less than fifteen minutes, Elle should be arriving. I’m eager to see her already and I can’t help but being nervous. These kinds of dates and events get me on the edge. It’s not that Elle expects something from me or anything like that, but, come on, I need to amaze her. I really want to impress her. I don’t want to let her down.

That’s why, at last, I’m dressed like a decent person. Well, what I mean is that, I’m dressed for the occasion and it’s been quite some time I’ve done this: Clean white shirt, black tie, nice black pants, shiny shoes (which I have spent a while shining since they were almost a lost cause), and all that impressive shit.

Who would have said that I could look like a common person again? I look at my reflection in the mirror and I nod, feeling confident and pleased. I haven’t even noticed how much my hair has grown in the last couple of weeks. And, if it wasn’t for Elle, I wouldn’t have even bothered on shaving.

Well, right now I don’t look so bad. My hair is combed backwards and the dark rings under my eyes aren’t that noticeable. The only thing I could not fix was my crooked tooth, but whatever. Elle finds it cute and I don’t really care about it.

After I have set the table for us two and lit the candles, I look at my piece of art. Well, I think everything is ready, at last. My beautiful girlfriend is the only thing missing here. And, actually, I’m happy tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this. I felt happy with Dom’s arrival too, but this kid of happiness is different.

I better stop babbling and focus. I think she is going to be pleased with me and my fancy outfit. I’m still battling against my cuffs when, suddenly, the bell is rang. I can’t hide my wide smile and, as a matter of fact, I’m a bit over the moon when I make my way through the living-room towards the door. Still with that wide smile that shows my crooked tooth, I open the front door.

Gosh, she is lovely tonight. She’s wearing a nice pink dress that suits her slim body perfectly. Fuck, I’m practically melting over here. It seems I’m just smiling like an idiot, because, in order to bring me back to Earth, she clears her throat. I murmur an apology and step aside to let her in.

“You look stunning tonight,” I say, dazzled by her beauty.

Elle smiles back and blushes a bit. Fucking adorable.

“Thanks. It’s been a while since I saw you dressed like that,” she adds before biting her lip.

Oh, God. She can’t do this to me. We can’t skip dinner. I control myself while letting out a nervous laugh as I guide her to the kitchen. Elle seems to love all the little details on the table: the candles, the little rose I bought for her. Well, it’s official. I’ve done something right. One point to Matthew.

I wish I could cook something for her, but cooking is not in my list of strengths till now. Maybe I can learn someday… maybe. Well, but Elle doesn’t seem upset because of that. She is happy and I’m fucking happy too.

We both enjoy our dinner between sweet kisses and smiles. She compliments me for the delicious food and wine and I can’t help but feel proud of myself. Well, I guess the score is two for Matthew now.

“I love you,” she smiles as she kisses me fully on the lips right after we both have finished our meals.

I’m about to kiss her back when, suddenly, we both hear something that startles us: a window has been broken in the adjacent room. Elle almost jumps on her chair and lets out a small scream, scared. I wish I could have laughed at that, but to tell you the truth, instead of that, that noise has got me fucking nervous.

“What was that?” Elle asks a bit confused and frightened while turning to look at the dark living-room.

Well, right now I realise that it wasn’t the best idea to turn off the lights at all. I thought it would give the place a more romantic touch, but it turned out to be the opposite. She is fucking terrified.

Her reaction gets me even more nervous than before. Probably it was nothing. Why do we need to make such a big fuss about it? Maybe some stupid kids threw a stone or something at one of the windows. Or maybe it was a bird crashing against it.

“I don’t know,” I answer after a few seconds of silence. Elle frowns and looks at me again. “Stay here, I will go and check,” I say as I leave the napkin on the table and stand up.

“Like hell I’m going to stay here all alone,” Elle almost shouts as she grabs my hand. I can feel hers are cold and sweaty. God, she is nervous and she isn’t making me feel any better. “I’m coming with you,” she adds as she stands up and stays behind me.

I roll my eyes and we both turn to the threshold to go and check whatever has just broken the window. When we leave the kitchen behind, we venture through the dark living-room till we reach the broken window, a few steps away from the front door. Elle gives my hand a squeeze to let me know she is okay.

I give her a kiss on the temple and tell her to stay there behind me. She glares at me for letting her go, but, come on, there are only a few steps between us; and if there are annoying kids playing with stones outside I wouldn’t want her to get hit by one.

Slowly, I approach the broken window and, feeling a bit nervous, I check the front street. I look outside seeking the stupid kids playing around, but I don’t see anyone around. In fact, the street is fucking dead and I don’t even hear anyone close to the house.

If it wasn’t a joke or an accident… what the hell was it? And more importantly, who the hell has done this and why?

“Matt?” I hear Elle’s trembling voice behind me.

Well I can’t be sure who or what broke the window, but whatever it was it’s gone now. Silently, I turn round to look at Elle and when I see a dark figure standing behind her my blood runs completely cold as I stand very still, shocked and confused.

What the fucking hell? Who the fuck is it? How did he manage to get in? What the hell does he want? Is he just a damn burglar? God, millions of questions start to run through my mind at lightning speed while I try to think of a way to free Elle.

The scariest part is that I can’t even see this person properly. It’s so fucking dark in here that he almost mixes with the black background. The only thing I can assure you is that it’s a man. His strong and wide body covered in dark clothes gives him away, but his whole face is covered with a black cloak.  What the fucking fuck? I can’t believe what’s going on.

Whoever it is has Elle grabbed by the neck and won’t let her go.   

“Don’t touch her,” I demand as I step forward. The stranger doesn’t even bother to speak; he just tightens his grip around my girlfriend’s little neck. Elle lets out a scream and a few tears escape her eyes while trembling in fear. God, this can’t be happening. Completely shaken, I show him my empty hands so that he knows we are defenseless and that he has won. “Let her go. What do you want?” I ask while Elle starts sobbing and pleading for her life in whispers.

But the man again doesn’t say a single word. He just stands there in silence, waiting. But waiting for what exactly? Why isn’t he doing anything? I’m so fucking confused. Why is he here? What the hell does he want with us?

I’m about to speak and try to negotiate something to free Elle when, suddenly, the front door is burst open.  

“What the…?” I gasp backing away from the entrance.

Two immense men covered in black cloaks just like the one who is still grabbing Elle appear through the threshold and take hold of me instantly. I fight back, of course, but it’s useless. I’m no fighter; I don’t have enough strength nor force enough to free myself from them, so that is why with only a few hits, they already have me kneeling on the floor, completely astonished and in pain.

I can’t lift my head since the pain is too overwhelming, but I do my best and focus my gaze on Elle. She is trying to get rid of the tall man behind her and she is also calling my name, frightened. I can hear her sobs and yelling and I wish I could answer her, but I’m still a bit dizzy and perplexed.

Then, I hear more steps, but these are softer than the previous ones. My eyes leave Elle for a second and I watch how, suddenly, a blonde woman in her mid thirties also vested with dark clothes enters the house with a devilish grin. Her dark eyes scan the room and when she finally sees me on the floor utterly disorientated, she lets out a grim laugh.

I try to center, but it’s too hard. Elle’s screaming is piercing my head and the prior beating has left me numb. The woman glares at Elle and, right after she has made a sign with her hand, the man holding her hits her too and tells her to shut the fuck up.

That’s it. They can fuck with me all they want, but they won’t lay a finger on my girlfriend. Still feeling pain everywhere, I stand up stumbling and face the blonde bitch, who has turned to look at me.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yell not caring about the two massive men besides me who are ready to beat the shit out of me if I attempt do to something.

The woman smiles and gets closer to me, ignoring Elle’s sobs. I close my hands in tight fists as she approaches me with her eyes locked on mine. I frown and I try to recognise her from anywhere, but I’m positive I have never seen her before. In fact, I have no idea who these people are and what they want with me.

“Matthew James Bellamy,” she says; the evil smirk vanishing from her face, as if she was some kind of judge about to pass my death sentence. I can notice her strong French accent and I wonder what the hell this French woman can possibly want from me. For a brief second, she studies me and pierces me with her disgusted look. What the hell is going on?! Why are they here?! However, before she continues, she looks at the men at my sides and almost barks at them. “Handcuff him now,” she commands them in a tone that even makes me back off a bit. Although I try to move quickly, they easily pin me down and grab me by the arms. I scream in pain when I feel them twisting both of my wrists to handcuff me. What the hell?!

“Who the hell are you?” I scream after they have let me go and thrown me to the floor again.

The moment I shut up and lift my gaze to glare at that bitch, I see her drawing her something out of her belt. It’s a fucking gun. Oh, fuck, no. This isn’t fucking possible. I open my mouth to somehow stop her from shooting me, but she only comes closer to me with the gun in hand, ready to blow my brain away.

Elle screams and it makes me fucking shiver. I don’t want look at her when that happens; for I just close my eyes, panicking and panting, while I just wait for the final blow. However instead of hearing the shot and feeling my head exploding, I just feel her grabbing me by the hair and, then, a severe metallic hit on my temple.

I let out a cry of pain when the back of her gun wounds me and makes me bleed. It hurts like fucking hell and if I was dizzy before, right now, I’m in the middle of a fucking earthquake.

Then, I lose balance and I fall to the floor again, feeling rushes of pain through my entire body as something sticky and hot starts to stain my left eyebrow and eye.   

“You don’t get to talk, maggot,” she says right before giving me a hard kick in the ribs. Again, a wave of pain leaves me numb and, for a little second, I think I pass out. However, I must be semiconscious yet because I feel hands grabbing me and forcing me to my feet. I’m still confused and the blood on the left side of my face is now staining my lips. “You have angered the wrong people and they aren’t pleased with your activities,” she adds after hitting me again.

“Leave him alone!” I hear Elle’s sobbing, but the dangerous woman just ignores her.

She is focused on me now and I prefer it that way.

“Fuckers,” I mutter feeling the blood rushing down my face and dripping to the floor.

The woman lets out a laugh and puts her gun down at least for the moment.

“You should have backed off when you had the time. Now it’s too late,” she enjoys my misery, lifting my head with the tip of the gun barrel.

I would be lying if I said I’m not fucking afraid. When I see her finger brushing the trigger, I start to tremble again.

“What does that mean? Let Elle go, she doesn’t know a thing,” I state trying to get rid of the hands that are forcing me to stay still in my place.

The French woman steps away from me and glances at the door and, then, glances at me again.

“Trent has a present for you.” Her wicked tone sets off an alarm in my brain.

As soon as I hear that fucker’s name, I realise what this is all about. Of course it’s him. It has been him all time. He wanted to shut me down as much as I wanted to shut _him_ down. He couldn’t stop me; he couldn’t contain me, so this is why he has sent these… freaks over to fucking finish me off.

Oh my fucking God. This means I’m fucking dead already.

Suddenly, the woman makes another gesture with her hand, and another man covered in black enters the house, but he doesn’t come alone. Can’t anybody see this from the street? From other houses? Nobody hears Elle’s screams? Are we fucking alone in the entire neighbourhood or what?! Why no one has called the police already?

All my doubts disappear when I look at the man who has just come on. Along with him, he carries a handcuffed bloke and after they have crossed the threshold, he throws the prisoner to the floor and closes the door with a loud noise.

Fucking hell, it’s Dom. I gape for about a minute as I try to accept the idea that they have just brought Dom in here and into this mess. He is completely dumbfounded and scared and his fearful gaze wanders around the room until our panic-filled eyes meet.

“What’s going on?! Matt?! Who are these people?!” He screams, trembling, trying to get up.

I’m about to answer, but the man next to Dom gives him a hard kick in the stomach and shuts him up.

“Leave him alone!” I shout as he keeps on beating my friend right in front of me.

Dom screams in pain as he tries to cover his body somehow, but the kicks are inevitable and when I see blood coming out of his wounds, I just feel sick.

God, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I knew it wasn’t going to be nice for me but… for them? Why them? They haven’t done a single thing. I’m the fucking guilty one.

“I don’t think so,” the French woman laughs as Dom lets out a cry of pain and rolls on the floor trying to escape the ruthless punishment he doesn’t even deserve. 

“Just stop! Please, just stop!!! I’ll do anything!” I plead moving in my place to call her attention, but the firm pair of hands on my shoulders doesn’t let me move much.

I can’t stand watching this anymore. This is my friend and he is going to get killed if that psycho doesn’t stop hitting him. When the woman notices the fear in my eyes, she stops her partner with just a single gesture of her hand and then turns to look at my frantic expression.

The fucking bitch is enjoying this moment, I can assure you that. I don’t look at her; I’m too busy trying to check whether Dom is still alive. When I see him panting and sobbing in pain I kind of feel relieved. For now, he is still here.

On the other side of the room, Elle is silent, staring at the whole situation as tears run down her cheeks.

Suddenly, the woman in black comes to me and grabs me by the hair again, hurting me and ripping a sob out of my dry throat.

“This is far from over,” she hisses like a fucking snake, too close to my face. I try to avoid her glare, but her dark eyes are impossible not to look at. “Now that I’ve got your attention, you will do as I say,” she adds as her partners also draw their guns out of their pockets in a threatening act.  

I quickly look at them and when I see how they all aim at Elle and Dom, who is still recovering from the beating, I can’t help but feel useless and powerless. I can’t refuse to execute their will. God, they are aiming at all of us with guns and if I dare to say no the price to pay will be too high. I just want them gone and my girlfriend and my friend to be safe and sound.

“What do you want from me, psycho?” I mutter feeling the anger in my chest pressing my insides.

The woman smiles as she caresses my bloody face with the cold steel barrel. It makes me shiver, but I stand her ugly smirk while I give her a defying look.

“Burn it,” she declares as she slides the gun up to my forehead and presses it against the bleeding wound.

“Burn what?” I almost scream in agony feeling how the steel pierces my skin, opening the wound and drawing out more blood.

“Burn it all. Your entire investigation and all the evidence,” she explains with a hasty and annoyed voice. I give her a venomous look, but that doesn’t help at all. She hits me again with the gun, making me kneel in front of her. “I’m going to fucking paint the walls with her pretty little brain,” she adds as she backs away from me and grabs Elle by the hair, pulling it.

Elle gives out a scream and begs for mercy, but I know it’s useless. They are here with one goal and nothing will get in between. 

“Okay!” I shout trying to get her attention. “I will, I will, God, just don’t hurt them, please,” I shout again as the French woman presses the barrel of the gun against my girlfriend’s head.

“That’s good,” she smiles, feeling powerful and she lets Elle go in a rather painful way.

My girlfriend begs me to help her, but there’s nothing more I can do rather than listen and follow their commands.

The woman gives me a killer look as she leads the way back into my office. How she knows it it’s a mystery to me. In spite of all, I don’t think I can walk. My head hurts like hell and my legs aren’t that strong now. However, the men behind me pull me and almost drag me into the hallway.

I let out a shriek as we move and when we arrive into the office, I feel a knot in my chest. Everything I have been working on for the past couple of… years? I can’t even remember, is about to go to hell. It’s not that I have to make a choice; it’s already been made. I’m not going to lose my girlfriend and my friend to this. Never.

But it really fucking pains me to see all my work gone.

The French woman doesn’t holster her gun again. She just puts it down for a moment while she pushes the big and ugly paint away with one hand. Something inside of me starts to twist in anger as I watch it fall and hit the floor with a loud noise.

However, my eyes haven’t seen the worst: When the woman gets closer to the safe to examine it, I think she is going to threaten me with her gun again to open it.

But that doesn’t happen at all. In fact, she just opens the safe without hesitation, leaving me utterly speechless and confused. How? Why? I don’t fucking understand. What the fucking hell? How is that she knew the damn code? I’ve never told it to anyone.

Smirking, she turns and then she looks at me.

“Destroy everything,” she commands me smiling wickedly.

One of the men behind me removes the handcuffs from my wrists in a tic and pushes me towards the woman. I’m not surprised by this; I know the other must be aiming my head with his gun so it’s not really a good moment to play the smart one and act like the hero and somehow escape.

The woman makes me a signal for me to go forward and though I really want to leave, I obey. She laughs as she watches me approaching slowly, but she doesn’t add anything. Shaking in anxiety and fear I just wait for her new command.

Instead of talking, she just takes a little metallic lighter out of her jacket pocket and hands it to me. For a brief second, I’m not sure if I have to take it, but when I feel the gun barrel against my nape I know I have no other choice.

I ignite the lighter and, then, I just stare at the little flame for a moment. Though I really want to throw it to her face, I know I can’t. They will shoot me and, then, they will shoot Elle and Dom. Hopelessly, I turn to look at all the evidence I had gathered and treasured for a long time.

It’s so unfair, so fucking unfair. I knew this fucking corporation was run by merciless assholes. I should have worked faster. I should have finished this a long time ago. I should have exposed these fuckers sooner. That way, nothing of this would have happened and Trent and all his accomplices would be behind bars by now.

“Do it,” the woman presses me as the gun barrel pokes my head.

Feeling like hell, feeling devastated and ruined, after a long sigh, I just throw the lit lighter into the safe. Then, I just watch motionless how the flames consume my entire work, my entire source of evidence.

Without them, I’m in zero again. There’s no way I can prove anything. All the evidence I have hidden for so long is about to be lost forever. The knot inside me gets even bigger as the papers and all the evidence I had against these fuckers start to disappear and turn into ashes after the fire has devoured them.

Then, I startle and slightly jump in my place when I hear a loud noise behind me. I turn slowly and I see my laptop on the floor. The woman gives me a satisfied look as she smashes and kicks my computer in front of me until it almost ceases to exist.

I guess that’s it. They’ve won. Trent has won. He fucking destroyed me and all my hard work. I have nothing against him, just my words. But it’s my word against his, so there’s nothing I can do to make him pay. There’s nothing I can do to stop him anymore.

The woman says something in French I don’t even understand and the men firmly grip my arms again. I don’t fight back because I’m defeated already and they know it. Before leaving the office, the woman closes the safe with her gun, smirking like a devil.

Then, she approaches me and her smile gets even wider. I feel like strangling her, like pulling her hair until I fucking rip it. God, I want to kill her so badly. She knows it and she even defies me looking straight into my blue eyes.

When she confirms I’m not going to do anything, she sighs and commands the men to take me into the living-room again. I need to see Elle and Dom. I need to check whether they are fine. When we finally make it into the living, I feel relieved to see them all right.

Well, Dom isn’t good at all, but he still breathes and I’m glad to see that. The men instantly let me go and then they just walk off to the front door, forgetting about me completely. God, are they really leaving?

“Please I did what you asked,” I beg when the woman stands next to Elle, looking at her.

She doesn’t answer me right away. She seems to be pondering about something and when she finally opens her mouth, I wish she had never done it.

“The thing is… you’ll never stop.” Her wicked smile again appears and makes me shiver.

I take a few steps towards them very slowly. 

“I promise I will, God, I promise I will never do it again. Nobody has to know about any of this. Please, just let them go,” I implore while she is staring at me deeply as if she was even taking my words into account.

The man behind Elle lets her go and leaves, just like his other partners. Now, the only dangerous person in the room is that French woman, who still has her gun in hands. I can’t fight her; she won’t hesitate to kill me, so I just remain in my place.

For a few seconds, we just stare at each other and I really hope I have somehow convinced her to leave without hurting any of us. Suddenly, she just nods. Then my heart starts racing when I see her taking a step away from Elle, who has been holding her breath for a few minutes, terrified.

“Consider it a gift from Trent,” she declares before turning into Elle’s direction and, without any sign of hesitation, pulling the trigger just a few inches away from my girlfriend, who doesn’t get to scream nor move.

She just collapses on the floor dead, while her assassin just turns round and leaves the house without even fixing on Dom, who is unconscious by the door.

Shocked and hurt, I let out a scream of pain and bewilderment. No, no, no, this isn’t fucking happening!!! No, please, no!!! This can’t be fucking real!!! With hot tears running down my cheeks, I crawl to my dead girlfriend, whose head is still bleeding and staining my clothes. God, she can’t be dead, she can’t be. Why?

I move her and I call her name between sobs, but she doesn’t wake up. Why won’t she wake up? Oh, God.

“Elle!!!” I call her again and again but there’s no point in doing that. I fucking know that already and, even though I know, I can’t stop. I’ll not accept this, I can’t accept this. Elle can’t be dead; Elle is not fucking dead.

My heart feels as if it were going to fucking break into fucking pieces, my hands are shaking and my head still bleeds, but I don’t give a fuck. I can’t get away from her. I need to protect her. I need to feel her next to me.

I look at her and I move away a lock of stained blond hair that was covering her now pale face. God, I wish I hadn’t done that. Her lifeless eyes stare at me and the only thing I see in them is oblivion, death.

I can’t stand this, I fucking can’t.

Suddenly, I remember about Dom, who is still a few steps away, by the door. God, he may be still alive and Elle isn’t. I need to check on him. I need to save him. If I couldn’t save her, I may be able to save him, but, first, I need to let go her lifeless body.

I can’t… not yet.

With a loud cry, I force myself to get away from the corpse of my girlfriend and, still shaken and terrified, I crawl to Dom and check his pulse. It’s barely there, but I can feel it. I look back and my whole body is attacked by goose bumps when I see the trail of blood I have left on the floor.

Trembling, I look for his phone inside his pockets while I pray to God he has it with him. I can’t go anywhere and my legs won’t let me move more than just a few steps and I don’t even know where I’ve put my phone.

When I find the device in his pocket, I let out a sob and I almost cry in joy when I see there’s no lock or password to enter.

As fast as my shaking hands let me, I dial 911.

“ _911, what’s your emergency?_ ” The voice of a woman answers after two tones.

“Please, please, help me!” I scream for help while holding Dom’s head on my lap trying to revive him. God, there’s so much blood. There’s blood everywhere: On the floor, on my clothes, on my hands, on Dom’s face and body. I swallow heavily and I try to centre on my friend, whose breathing is almost imperceptible. Is he dead already? Can someone save him? God, please he can’t die, please, not Dom too. “M-my friend is g-going to die if no one com-mes now and s-someone shot-t m-my girlf-friend-d. P-please, sen-nd help-p,” I stutter while my hands shake uncontrollably.

I need to grip the device so hard that I fear I’ll break it. However, if I even dare to let it go a bit, it will slip and I may end up breaking it.

The next few seconds are a total blur. I don’t know how I manage to tell them my address, but before hearing the sirens in the distance, I blackout.

***

I’m not sure what is going on when I slowly open my eyes. They seem almost glued and it’s a huge effort for me to move my lids apart. In addition to that, a strong smell of disinfectant fills my nose as I try to wake up. Just a little bit more… just a bit more.

I think I’m sedated or something because my whole body is heavy as hell, lied in a not very comfortable bed, and my head is pounding and spinning around. I frown, fighting this pressure against my body and, when I finally manage to focus my eyesight, I give a good look at the white room around me.

It’s so fucking white that my eyes hurt a bit; but, anyways, from the moment I wake up completely drugged, my curious gaze starts scanning the place slowly. This white place seems to be a common hospital room. It’s nearly empty and it has no windows, which gives me a feeling of claustrophobia.

In fact, there’s no other furniture around me, but some cold and white machines and a little and empty nightstand to my left.  

Am I in a fucking hospital? For a brief second, I don’t understand what I am doing in here. Why am I lying here? When did I arrive? Am I hurt? What happened to me? I’m so numb and drugged that I can’t feel any pain in my body.

I try to lean over to see if I’m all right, but my body is covered with a white blanket and the sedative in my system is still fucking strong. The beeping sound of the machines by my side starts getting on my nerves, but I do my best to ignore it.

Fucking amnesia and fucking numbness. What the hell happened? What’s the last thing I can remember? I close my eyes and the white room disappears. I need to focus and I need to remember. I remember the strange visit I made to Dom’s empty house, I remember having dinner with Elle and…blood.

There was so much fucking blood all around me and in me, in my clothes and in my hands.

Oh my fucking God. Elle! Elle! Elle!

I want to scream her name and run away somewhere. I don’t know where, but I need to move. I can’t stand being so quiet in a moment like this. However, sadly, my body is still so high on drugs that it’s even impossible for me to even say her name out loud. 

Those people in dark cloaks… Trent’s messengers. Yes, I can remember now. It’s all coming back slowly. I remember them in my place aiming at us with guns and beating us. But, God, I wish I could remember their faces.

I try to focus but it’s to no avail. They had their faces covered so there’s no way I can even remember them properly. But, there was a French woman. Yes, I can recall her face.

She is the only one I can remember quite well. In fact, she was… she was the one who did it, the one who shot Elle in cold blood. When the images of that shocking and terrible moment fill my mind, I feel like screaming. I’m angry and I want to fucking kill those bastards; but I’m so fucking destroyed too.

It even hurts to breathe now. Not that I can feel actual pain because of the meds, but the pain of her death is even worse than an actual wound. God, What the hell?! Did that actually happen?! Why didn’t I stop it?! Why didn’t I do something before it was too late?

As my heart starts pumping faster and my breathing gets heavier, turning into quiet sobs and pants, the beeping in the machines next to me also start to get higher and more annoying. Fuck it. I can’t calm down. I just fucking can’t and I won’t.

They’ve killed Elle. They’ve fucking shot my girlfriend dead. Why?! Was it necessary? They could have shot me instead, but no. They wanted to make a point and they fucking made it.

They knew they couldn’t trust me, although I’d promised I would never touch my work again. They knew eventually I would surrender and start over. God, I knew it too. Why am I even alive?! Why didn’t they punish me? Elle was innocent.

What the fuck am I even saying? They did punish me, but they didn’t kill me. No, death would have been an act of mercy. They wanted me to be alone and also to feel guilty for having condemned my loved ones.  

I knew it all along. I knew Trent and his fucking horde would go after me right after the paper came out. I knew writing this fucking paper would be the death of me, but… the death of Elle? How? Why? This is not possible. I just can’t handle this. This can’t be true. It must be a horrible nightmare. I want to wake up, please someone just make me wake up from this.

When the beeping sound starts to go crazy and new noise starts to sound from the machine, a woman immediately enters the room, as if she was waiting outside to rush in.

I don’t even turn to look at her; I’m too busy gripping the white sheets with my sweaty hands trying to look for a non-existent solution. But it’s done and Elle is gone and she is never coming back. God, I can remember everything: the fucking bullet hole in the back of her head, the blood staining me, her cold and lifeless body, her pale skin, her blank stare.

God, for fuck’s sake what have I done?! I’ve brought this onto myself and onto the people I love. Why didn’t I listen to everyone before?! Why did I have to be so fucking proud?!

The woman besides me doesn’t say a word, but I manage to see out of the corner of my eye that she clicks some buttons and the machines stabilise again. After that, still completely silent, she takes out a needle out of her pocket and injects whatever it has into my I.V.

Well, I guess that sleeping time is coming soon again. I don’t want to sleep, I want to be up. I need to be up. What am I going to say to Elle’s parents? And my friends? The police? Have they found the body yet?

It’s fucking creepy that she doesn’t try to calm me down or even tell me to rest a bit. But, at this moment, this is the least of my problems. God, Elle… and where the hell is Dom? Is he even alive? Did they also take him into the hospital?

This time I turn to look at her, fighting against the sudden sleepiness that has taken hold of me. I need to keep my eyes open and I manage to fight back as much as I can. The nurse is a middle-aged woman, and she has her hair combed back in a tight bun on the back of her head; and, of course, she is also wearing her white scrubs. Her serious expression doesn’t reassure me at all. God, this woman is so fucking creepy.

“W-wher-re is-s…?” I stammer as I try to speak, but the fucking drugs in my system aren’t helping me at all. Although in my mind the question seems pretty simple, my poor and dry mouth can’t even attempt to work this question out.

She doesn’t even turn to look at me. In fact, the woman just leaves the room and closes the door, leaving me confused and scared. Did she even listen to me? I guess not. I could barely whisper two incomprehensible words.

Before falling into that uncertain dumbness, I wonder if Dom is all right and if they are also taking care of him. He was bleeding so much. Those fucking animals… they didn’t get enough by killing my girlfriend; they also had to beat the crap out of him.

God, why didn’t I listen to Dom? Why didn’t I stop it all when I had the chance? God, Dom why didn’t I do as you told me?

***

_Nine_

“Matt!”

Hmmm, is it Elle calling my name? I open my eyes a bit and when I see her happy smile against my face I let out a smile. God, she is so beautiful, so young, so… alive.

“Hi,” I murmur as I embrace her closer to me. “What?” I ask after I have missed her last words, but she doesn’t answer me. Suddenly, she is still and very quiet. When I pull away, my whole shirt is stained in red and her head falls down, showing me a bleeding bullet hole in the back of her head.

“Oh, God, no!” I scream as her whole body weights into my arms. I’m powerless and her blood keeps staining me. I can even taste it and it makes me want to vomit.

“Matt!” Again her voice haunts me.

“Please, stop!” I shout as I leave her bleeding body on the floor and I cover my eyes with my bloody hands. I can’t watch her and I won’t, but that doesn’t mean the screaming around me ceases.

“Wake up!” Suddenly, her voice isn’t hers anymore. It’s someone else’s. “Wake up, for Christ’s sake!” Two hands grab me and start shaking me repeatedly.

Finally, when I open my eyes for the second time (and this time for real) my blue eyes meet a very concerned grey stare.

“Dom?” I ask in a very low voice as I recognise my best friend’s face next to mine. He sighs and lets my shoulders go. “What happened?” I ask feeling numb and confused.

“You were dreaming,” he answers as he takes a step back. I can’t look at him anymore. Not after what happened. Not after he was almost killed because of me. He was right all along and I did nothing, but distrust him and accuse him. I should have listened to him. I should have fucking stopped when I could. “I’m so sorry about Elle,” he starts lowering his head, but I don’t say anything. I can’t; I just can’t cope with her fucking death right now.

“I want to leave,” that’s all I can say.

I won’t say her name out loud. If I do, I don’t know what will happen. I may have a fucking panic attack or a rage attack and I don’t want to hurt Dom or anybody. So I just better remain as silent as I can.

Dom shakes his head with a sad expression. This is the first time I notice that he is completely fine. His wounds seem almost gone as if he only had a little scratch instead of a beating… but he was so fucking bad yesterday. I’ve seen him and he even had a blackout when I called 911. How is that he has healed so soon? God, this is so fucking confusing.

“I know, friend. But the doctor said you can’t,” Dom insists as I try to lift the covers away to stand up.

I don’t even care if I have to leave in this shitty patient’s gown.

“Why the hell not?” I ask as Dom prevents me from moving.

His grey eyes avoid mine for a little bit.

“Because he said you needed more tests,” he adds backing away from me.

God, I just can’t fucking believe this. This must be a fucking joke.

“You were the one who got fucking beaten, not me,” I state feeling angry and completely anxious to get the fuck out of this place.

Dom nods and shrugs.

“His words, not mine,” he finally declares with a sad tone looking at the cut above my eyebrow, where the French woman hit me with her gun.

I give him an angry look as I just let out an ironic laugh and sit on the bed.

“Whatever,” I give up, furious.

We don’t say a thing for a few minutes. Dom seems nervous besides me: He plays with his hands and sometimes opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out of it. Well, I kind of understand him. What would I do if I was him? It’s a shitty situation and a shitty place to be right now.

I don’t really mind about it. I don’t need anyone’s pity. In order to escape this fucking moment, my mind goes back to the moment I first met Elle, two years ago. “How is that a girl like you needs to visit a dating web site? That’s for losers like me.” That was the first thing I said to her.

I felt like an idiot the moment I closed my mouth, but she just bursted out laughing. I never knew what I did in order for Elle to like me, but I guess it happened by accident since I’m not the charming type of guy. 

“Matt, I’m really sorry.” Dom’s voice brings me back to reality. A shitty reality I don’t even want to be in. I was feeling fine living in my memories. Why did he have to do it? It’s cruel. I glare at him for a moment and he isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to carry on with his friendly speech, but he does it anyway. “I’m here for you and I’ll do all I can to help you,” he declares as he takes my hand between his and gives it a squeeze.

Idiot.

I don’t need this. I fucking don’t.

I don’t want to break in front of him. I just don’t want to break and I won’t. I take a deep breath and, then, I soften my gaze. Dom isn’t here to harm me or humiliate me. He’s always wanted the best for me and I was so damn foolish that I couldn’t see it before.

“Thanks,” I murmur avoiding his grey eyes. He lets go my hand and gives me a pat on the back, trying to reassure me that he will stand by my side no matter what. When I look at him again, he seems as if he was struggling to say something else. “Spit it out, Dom,” I finally say rolling my eyes.

I guess I know him too well because he gives me a worried look.

“The police are waiting,” he starts telling me the last thing I wanted to hear, but he isn’t done yet. Oh, hell no. The worst part is about to come. “…and Elle’s parents too,” he finally adds stuttering.

That’s it. That’s fucking it. I’m fucking done. There’s no way I can explain this and that they can believe me. How am I going to prove any of this? I don’t have any evidence to support my testimony. As far as the world knows, Trent is just another corporation. I’m so fucking fucked right now. The asshole did it well.

“What?” I ask trying to swallow that last bit.

Her parents… her fucking parents that don’t even know I exist. Or well… didn’t know. Because I’m sure they must know all about me by now. God, I’m fucking going to jail for this or who knows what is else waiting for me at the end of the trial. Their daughter is dead and I’m not.

And this is all my fault and there’s no way I can get out of this. They’ve got me good. Fuck, fuck.

“They want to speak to you,” Dom states the obvious as he grabs a wheelchair from the corner of the room. Was it there the whole time? I didn’t even see it before. What the hell? He then notices my reluctant look and sighs. “Look, the doctor said you may still feel dizzy or weakened. This is just a precaution so that you don’t fall on your ass and hurt yourself even more,” he adds in order to convince me. Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about it, can’t I? They are going to take me in and I will have to say goodbye to everything and everyone so. “Here, let me help you,” Dom says he grabs my arm softly and helps me to sit down on the metallic chair.

Well I’ve never sat on one until now. And I wish the circumstances were different…  anything would be better than this.

“Thanks,” I whisper as my friend takes the handles and pushes me to the door.

“It’s fine,” he gives me that kind smile as he opens the door and takes me through a very large corridor. “I’m glad you are fine, Matt,” he states while we pass opposite a few closed doors.

I frown as I see there are no numbers on them. Did mine even have one? I haven’t even noticed it before leaving the room. I turn my head round to see the end of the hallway and I can’t help but shiver.

It’s so quiet down here. Why? Isn’t this supposed to be a damn hospital full of sick and noisy people? Where are the running doctors and the worried nurses? Why there aren’t crying or shocked relatives in the corridor? Why are we the only ones here?

“Where’s everybody anyway?” I ask feeling a bit out of place, as if someone was watching us.

Again, I frown and look behind us, but there’s no one there. It almost feels as if we were in a fucking horror movie. But there are no serial killers nor ghosts. Nothing attacks us and no one appears in our way.

“I don’t know. Sleeping? It’s late,” Dom tells me as he lifts one hand and gives a quick glance at his watch.

Well, it might be late at night but hospitals are always filled with people. Why can’t I even hear a single sound? No machines, no voices, no breathing, no nothing.

“Yeah but… is there anybody in here?” I ask as we reach the end of the corridor and Dom presses the “down” button of the lift.

“Relax,” he states and I can’t really believe he has just said that to me.

Relax? I can’t fucking relax or calm down or any shit like that. Doesn’t he know about the entire the fucked up situation I’ve just experienced? Can’t he understand that I’m fucking torn apart right now? Can’t he see I’m about to get fucking arrested and imprisoned?

In fact, I’m fucking pissed off right now and I want to stand up and fucking punch him.

“Real…?” I begin with an angry voice, but something cuts me off. The gates of the lift suddenly open in front of us, but that’s not exactly what interrupts me. Out of the blue, I feel a needle digging into my neck. A cold substance is then injected into my body and I instantly start feeling its effects. “W-what-t?” I mumble as the corridor starts spinning around me as if I was in a fucking rollercoaster.

My head hurts like hell and my limbs go so fucking numb I can’t move anymore. I don’t get a thing. I don’t understand what the fuck is going on but before the gates of the lift close again, my head falls back and, once again, I’m pulled back into the darkness of my unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 10

_Ten_

A very intense voice is floating around me, filling my insides with fear, haunting me. It’s not alone, no. Eerie music accompanies the high-pitched voice that sings in a foreign language.

I know I have heard this before somewhere. It’s not something I could forget that easily, even if I wanted to. I know it and it fucking scares me that this unnatural and high-pitched voice is slowly crawling from the shadows that surround me like a fucking demon from hell.

I fight against the heaviness that keeps my eyes shut, but, damn, the bitch is strong. I don’t have the sufficient strength to move, so I just try to focus on opening my eyes, but, again, it’s not the easiest task.

As I slowly slip back into consciousness, I try to move, but something is holding me back. I still don’t know what the fuck is going on and once I’ve finally opened my eyes, I find myself in a large room.

At the beginning, I can’t quite understand the place. I’m still dizzy and sure there are drugs in my system that keep me dumb and weak. I frown for a little while trying to adjust my eyes to the room that, in fact, seems to be an office. Again, the white creamy walls hurt my eyes and although I rack my brain trying to figure out where I am, I still have no clue about it.

Wasn’t I at the hospital? What was happening? I remember Dom… yes. I was with him going somewhere. Oh, fuck. I was going to talk to the police and to… Elle’s parents. My head starts pounding painfully when the memories come back in a flash. One by one, they sort of hit me and leave me even weaker.

There was so much blood and I was just there motionless with her body on my lap. By the time I had reached her, she was already gone. There was nothing I could have done to bring her back, I keep on repeating to myself.

God, I don’t want to remember. I fight my memories back in order to get hold of myself. I just can’t fucking break right now. First, I need to find out where the fuck I am. I will have time to… mourn later.

Once my eyes have properly got accustomed to the lights in the room, only after I have blinked a few times, I try to move my head to take a good look but, again, something is holding me back. All I know is that I’m sat, completely immobile, in a metallic chair.

There’s a desk in front of me and it’s almost empty. I can only see a computer and the keyboard, but I see no papers or anything like that on it. My eyes move on all possible directions trying to recognise any details, but my whereabouts are still a mystery to me.

There are also some shelves filled with books, which names are completely blurry to me. On the furthest corner, a very old turntable plays a vinyl, from where that hellish melody is coming from.

On my right, I manage to see a closed wooden door. But, what almost makes my heart stop in the place is the enormous picture behind the desk, right in front of me. It’s a portrait of Harold Trent, the fucking CEO of the fucking corporation I have been trying to shut down. His grey hair, his blue eyes, his pale skin, even his fucking smart suit. It even seems as if he was standing right here, in front of me, judging me, mocking me.

That’s it. I don’t give a fuck about this place. I’m getting out of here somehow. I want to stand up and leave right now; but when my body doesn’t respond to my command, I frown and I lower my gaze, confused.

When I finally see what restrains me, I let out a loud gasp, astonished: Both my ankles and my wrists are firmly tied to the metallic chair attached to the floor, but, though the restrains seem quite strong, that isn’t the only thing that stops my body from moving.

Once again, I try harder and I command myself to get up and leave, but my arms and my legs are completely still, as if they were just dead limbs. Why can’t I move? What the fuck? Why can’t I even feel anything? 

Oh, God. This can’t be happening. Why?! I was doing okay before. I remember I could move perfectly. Why this sudden change?! I start to panic and, if I could, I would be trembling also.

I recall Dom saying something of some tests… the doctor said I couldn’t leave the hospital yet. Maybe my condition has to do with that? But… what happened? Did I suffer any accident? Did something else happen to me after I’d passed out in the hallway? Where’s Dom? Is he outside? Is he with the doctor?

God, there are too many unanswered questions.

But, though I really want to answer them all, the one that has me completely speechless is: Why am I now sitting opposite a fucking portrait of Harold Trent if I was at the hospital with Dom?! I don’t get it. I’m so fucking confused right now and I’m also scared. I can’t fucking move and I can’t feel my body, therefore, I can’t go anywhere.    

I swallow heavily because my throat is completely dry and I start to sweat, feeling uneasy. What the fucking hell is going on!? Where the fuck am I?! When my eyes fix on the old turntable displayed on the corner of the room again, I frown even more.

That fucking music… it’s coming from there. The same uncanny and scary music I heard when I used Dom’s phone. Who turned it on? Why? Could this be just a mere coincidence? How is that I’m even listening to this right now?!

Suddenly, I hear steps outside the room. I hear voices and I freeze instantly. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to shout or not, so I decide to remain quiet and wait. The footsteps come closer and my heart jumps when I hear the door opening.

Though I’m still nervous, I really try to say something when I see three people entering the room out of the corner of my eye. First, I open my mouth and I do all I can to move, which is to no avail.

“What is this? Where am I?” I ask as I focus on two people who are dressed in white, as if they were surgeons. I can see that they are looking at me from where they are standing, speechless. After a few seconds, they return to their previous conversation and get lost behind my chair. I stammer for a few seconds, trying to get their attention, but no one answers me right away and that makes me even more nervous. God, what the hell is going on?! “Why am I here? What is this fucking place?” I shout as the third man gets closer to me and, once he is right in front of my eyes, he smiles at me.

“Don’t you know? I thought you knew all about us.”

Oh. Fuck.

It’s fucking _him._ It’s fucking Trent in the flesh, wearing his fucking suit and tie. His blue eyes, darker than mine, stare at me deeply and pleased; the way a predator stares at his prey right before finishing it. God, how the fuck did I get in here?! How the fuck did he even get hold of me?!

The CEO gives me a wicked smirk as he backs off and takes a sit on the wooden desk, opposite my chair. He doesn’t say anything for a while; he seems entertained looking at the two other men, who are behind me doing who-knows-what. I can only hear whispers and metallic noises.

“Let me go, psycho,” I demand, angry and scared, as I try to fight against the numbness in my body, but it’s useless.

My eyes wander round trying to look for something that could help me get out, but Trent’s voice distracts me from my mission.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he laughs in a rather devilish way and not even looking at me. “Besides, why would you leave? You’ve agreed to be here,” he begins as he opens a drawer and takes out a folder.

“What?!” I shout as the man again comes to me and displays before my wide open eyes a paper. “What the hell is that?” I ask squinting my eyes in order to read the tiny letters.

“It’s a non-disclosure agreement,” he adds as he turns the pages one by one until he gets to the last one. “And your signature is right there. See? You have agreed to be part of this, Matthew.”

“That’s impossible!” I yell as the man points at my complex handwriting at the bottom of the page. How is that possible? I have never seen that paper before. I have never even spoken to Trent… why would I even sign a fucking contract that involves this bastard in the first place?! “I haven’t signed anything! You fucking forged my signature, you fucking…” I shout, furious.

“Your signature is here and that’s what matters,” he cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.

Suddenly, I sense movement on my right side. I still can’t move my head, but I can see how the two men (doctors?) get closer to me and exchange a few words in a language I don’t understand. Then, one of them grabs some cotton and pours some alcohol in it while the other just waits next to me with a fucking syringe in hand.

God, what the fuck is going on?!

“W-what?” I stutter as my heartbeat starts to increase to the point that it even hurts my chest. “What are they doing?” I say as I watch the first doctor cleaning the inner part of my elbow with the cotton.

Trent doesn’t say a single thing and nor do the doctors. It doesn’t matter how much I protest or try to dissuade them, they just carry on with their work and when the second doctor injects the syringe in my arm and draws out blood, I gasp, consumed by fear.

“They will just take a blood sample,” Trent finally says, amused, as he retrieves the paper and puts it back inside its folder and then inside the drawer.

Although it just takes a few minutes, it feels like ages.  For a few seconds, I watch the fucking small tube getting filled with my blood little by little until it’s full.

“For what?” I ask, shocked as the doctor withdraws the needle from my arm and cleans again the little red dot.

“To number you.”

That leaves me fucking speechless. My eyes go back to Trent, who is still with that amused smirk on his face. I would love to punch the asshole right in his face… If I could just move a few steps further.

“N-number me? What do you mean?” I ask again, dumbfounded and confused.

“You shall see in time,” Trent lets out a deep laugh as he stands up and goes to check the turntable.

That fucking music. I wish someone fucking broke it, but nobody stops it. In fact, I see how the bastard caresses the turntable, as if it was his fucking relic. 

“You crazy son of a bitch, let me go now!” I yell, furious. “You fucking killed my girlfriend! You’ll pay for everything!” Though thinking of her makes my heart ache, I just can’t hold back now. “Don’t you think they’ll find me?! They will know what happened eventually, psycho!”

That’s enough to get his attention. Trent, who seemed to have forgotten about me and was deeply immersed in the music, turns round to glare at me.

“Shut the fuck up now,” he orders with a look on his face that makes my blood run fucking cold. “Your pretty little girlfriend was collateral damage. Too bad for her. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But, think for a moment, Matthew. Don’t you think that someone like me can erase all tracks I leave behind? You really think the police will come knocking at my door and arrest me? We’ve already invented something for your little girlfriend’s early demise. Don’t worry. It doesn’t involve you at all, so you are free of charges! You should even thank me!” He now laughs, mocking me. God, he hasn’t even denied it. He wants me to know how badly I fucked up. How is it that this psycho controls everything and everyone?! Why is he unstoppable?! And why would he help me? I thought that he wanted to wipe me out, I thought he wanted to get rid of me for being a constant nuance to his fucking corporation. “And your family and friends have been notified that, from now on, you won’t be working at home anymore…”

I have no idea what that means. Is he going to keep me in here? There’s no way no one will suspect!

I swallow again, nervous as hell, and all of a sudden, I think of my friend Dom, and I can’t help but feeling puzzled. I have no idea how I ended up here. All I can remember is that I was at the hospital next to him… Oh, God… if they got me, what have they done to him? What if he is here too?

“Where is Dom?” I ask giving him a defying look. “What have you done to my friend, sick psycho?!” I yell, but his expression turns confused, just like mine.

Doesn’t he know who I am talking about? He can’t not know.

“Your friend? Who is your friend?” He frowns as his anger dissipates slowly.

Fucker. He must be lying. I can’t trust his words and I won’t.

“What have you done to him?! He was with me at the hospital!” I ask again trying to ignore the creepy music and the low murmurs behind my back.

Trent finally smiles and nods.

“Ah, yeah, “the hospital”,” he smiles, leaving me speechless. “I think I know who you mean…” he laughs and, suddenly, his expression changes drastically. Before he seemed just amused, but now his lunatic smirk gives me fucking creeps. What the hell? What has he done? Is Dom all right? “And let me tell you that “your friend”, the way you put it, doesn’t exist,” he adds laughing, enjoying my confusion.

I frown and, for a little while, I don’t know what he means.

“What?” That’s the only word that I can produce without failing.

Trent gets closer to me, leaving the turntable behind and when he puts a hand on the back of the chair, I almost feel as if my whole body tensed in fear.

“In fact, it’s been quite some time since your friend has ceased to exist. Right now, he is… nothing, no one,” he explains with a pleased tone.

“What the hell?” I yell as I watch him take out his phone and write something on the screen.  

“Let me show you,” he adds without looking at me, still smiling.

I don’t add anything because I don’t know what is going to happen. I don’t know what he meant with that shit of “he has ceased to exist”. Did he kill him? Did he lock him up? Where is my friend? God, something is so wrong… I can feel it.

A few minutes pass, in which Trent just stares at me with his wide and wicked smile while the other two men prepare something behind my back. It doesn’t take too long until, suddenly, the door is opened again.

I wish I could just move my fucking head, but it’s impossible. I can see two men entering the room from the corner of my eye, but they don’t remain there. They keep on moving until they reach Trent’s side, right in front of me.

The older man has strong features, short brown hair, and his dark eyes first scan me for a while. If I could shiver, I would, but my whole body is like “dead”. I don’t know who he is and when I end examining him, my eyes finally fall on the other man standing next to him.

For a second, I stay speechless looking at the brunet man who is just a few steps away from me. Why is he standing next to those bastards as if he were one of them? Why is he dressed in black just like those men who broke into my place and killed my girlfriend and beat the crap of out him? Why is he there, completely motionless, while his best friend is tied up asking for help with teary and scared eyes?

Was I right about my theory? No, that can’t be true. He wouldn’t… He has been my friend for so long. God, I’m just in a fucking nightmare. This can’t be real. I can’t accept this. First Elle, now this… When will this fucking nightmare end!?

Though his empty expression does leave me shocked and scared, I don’t hesitate when I call his name, trying to get his attention.

“Dom!!!” I scream my friend’s name looking for help, but he doesn’t move. In fact, he doesn’t even blink. He is staring at me yes, but he is not seeing me, I think. I can’t fucking explain it. Although he doesn’t show any sign of life, I still insist. “God, Dom help me!” I add feeling desperate.

“He can’t hear you, _durak_ ,” the other man, suddenly bursts out angrily.

His strong accent gives him away instantly and, though I have never seen this fucking man before, I know exactly who he is.

“Koroskov,” I mutter and the nasty man smiles wickedly, but he doesn’t confirm anything. God, what the fuck is going on? Is he the same man that was friends with Dom? Why? Why would my friend be friends with… this?! “But… he is right there! Dom! I’m Matt! Help me!” I’m not giving up so easily.

It doesn’t matter what they say, the person standing right there is Dom. I don’t care if they proclaim that he doesn’t know me; that’s not fucking possible. We were and are best friends and he knows who I am. He did not fucking forget about me. He just can’t… can he?

“Don’t be naïve. He doesn’t even know who you are,” Trent smiles seeing my desperation.

I want to shake my head, but I still can’t move a single muscle.

“He is my best friend!” I insist yelling. “I don’t know what kind of sick thing you’ve done to him but…”

“Exactly, Matthew,” Trent interrupts me as he ejects himself towards me and grabs both armrests. “You have no idea. And you don’t need to worry. Just let me tell you that it doesn’t matter what you do or say…” His next words make my stomach turn in horror and my heart start pumping faster, in a very dangerous rhythm. “Your friend is dead.”

“No, he is here right in front of me,” I try to fight against what is right there before my eyes.

“That?” Trent turns around and gives him a funny look before pointing at him with his index finger. “That’s just a shell, a recipient. I would even dare to say it’s a machine,” he explains as he goes towards my friend, who hasn’t even blinked yet. God, what the fucking hell?! Trent stops right besides him and stares at him, wondering. “We formally call them Reapers, but everything they do or say it’s just an act, a façade. They are being controlled and monitored by us. Whatever he has said or done is not real,” he adds as he and Koroskov exchange an accomplice look. Fuckers. Reaper? What? “And in case you have doubts, it won’t hesitate if I order it to exterminate a child, a pregnant woman or you. It will obey and it will kill,” he states feeling proud.

“Why in the hell would you do something like that?!” I try to understand such a wicked mind, but Trent just laughs and shakes his head, as if he was dealing with an idiot.

“Because I can,” he mutters, wallowing. “Because I’m empowered to do so,” he adds as his smile turns into something dark and twisted.

“Someone will discover the truth. Someone will someday,” I threaten him as the anger in my chest pumps faster.

Both men laugh and don’t even bother to contain themselves. They don’t even acknowledge my enraged gaze. Dom doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t even blink. He just stands there, as if he was a robot.

“Oh, but it won’t be because of you, Matthew,” Trent finally says as he almost wipes his tears of laughter away. “You thought you were brave and smart and that you had a chance against the most powerful corporation in the world?” His tone starts to darken, making my heart beat faster. “Let me remind you something: You are nothing, you are less than nothing, just another little defector in my system. You are so fucking pathetic and so fucking easy to erase that I even pity you a bit. You can’t change the system. No one can,” he tries to intimidate me as the flames in his eyes threaten to devour me alive right here.

“Someone will,” I manage to whisper, defying him.

“I would love to see that. You see, you are not the first one to come and investigate us,” he adds getting away. “And certainly you won’t be the last.” The pleasant tone in his words make me so fucking angry that I would have fucking killed him right there.

The two doctors appear again, but this time, they don’t have any syringe. One of them says something to the other and his partner nods and disappears behind me. I wait impatiently and when I see the other man getting closer with something that looks like a fucking ice pick, I gasp and do all I can in order to make my body respond.

What the hell?! What are they going to do to me with that fucking thing?

“Let me go now! You are all crazy! If you kill me…” I yell as I watch the doctor waiting for his partner.

Trent gives a few steps closer to me and grabs my face, forcing me to look at him.

“Kill you?” He asks frowning and shaking his head. “Oh, no, no, Matthew!” He scolds me as if I was a fucking child. “Who said anything of killing? I don’t want to kill you! In fact, you have become a very valuable asset to the corporation!” Trent lets go of my face and smirks as he backs off a bit. For a moment, just a little second, I thought I had a chance. I even dared to believe I could make it, but his next words leave me drained. “But I just want you to… stop thinking so much,” he finally adds staring at the doctor next to me.

“W-what does that mean?” I stutter glancing at the fucking ice pick thing.

“I just need you to forget some things,” Trent explains while making a gesture with his hand, dismissing the subject. “You shall see in a moment.” His devilish smile gives me creeps and when the second doctor appears next to me, I do all I can to move, but it’s useless.

“Oh, God. No, please, let me go!” I scream as I watch the one who has the thick steel needle in hand approaching my face. Is he going to fucking stab me with it? God, I need to stop them. I can’t let them do this. Suddenly, beyond all the panic, I feel Dom’s stare on me. He is my only chance. He has to help me. He needs to remember who I am. “Dom, help me!” I scream trying to move, but I just manage to twist my thumbs a bit. God, this can’t be happening, no, no. “Don’t let them do this to me! Help! Someone, please help!!!” I yell hoping that somebody out there can hear me.

“It’s useless,” Trent smiles as his gaze focuses on me. I see Dom and Koroskov looking at me too. They don’t add anything, they just stare, waiting. When I notice the surgeon too close to my face, I dare to look at his hand one more time. The sharp end is right in front of my eye, ready to pierce my skin. Is he going to stab my fucking eyes? What the fuck do they want to do to me? “It will be done before you know it.”

Those are the last words I hear before everything stops. Well, not everything, since the sinister melody still floats around me, lingering like a ghost.

I feel pain. Yes, I feel so much pain that’s even unbearable; and I also feel blood rushing out the injury above my upper lid. But, even though I’m twisting in agony on my insides, I don’t move. I can’t move and I can’t scream. I can’t do anything at all.

With that final and lethal hit, everything just… goes away. When the steel needle penetrates my skin, my bones and, finally, my brain, all my memories are swept away instantly, as if someone had just pressed a button and erased them forever. Everything, every thought, every memory, every face, every name, everything I once knew is then deleted and I’m left empty inside, almost dead.

I’m no one. I’m nothing. Who am I? What am I?


	7. Chapter 11

_???_

Reaper opens the gate and when he enters the cell, he takes a good look at the dark space around him. He doesn’t know why he was summoned there, but he obeyed, as he is supposed to. It’s the first time he has ever been there, he thinks, and just because his Handler has told him so. Otherwise, he would just be shut off somewhere or executing other commands.

Reaper doesn’t remember much about himself. He knows he wasn’t always like this. He knows that before he used to enjoy things and to live freely the way he wanted. But now that part of him is buried deep somewhere in his brain and he can barely remember anything about it.

There are some faces or phrases, but they don’t mean anything to him now. His only wish is to execute his Handler’s commands and nothing else. He only lives to serve and please. Nothing else.

“Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts.”

When Reaper looks at the thing sat down on the floor swaying back and forth, he frowns and watches at it blankly. He takes a few steps closer and when the creature lifts its head and looks at him, something very strange happens to him.

He never thinks about his previous life. It is useless and forbidden and he doesn’t even want to remember it. However, when those icy blue eyes meet his, a cold shiver runs down his spine and his mind is overwhelmed by something Reaper didn’t even know he had buried inside his memory: “ _You are my best friend, Dom_.”

That phrase leaves the mouth of the man in his memories. It’s the same man that now has become that sad and deplorable creature that has no sense of time or anything at all. It just exists, unconnected to the world around it.

Reaper frowns again and though he has been programmed not to think, he does it anyway. Why did that memory in particular appear in his brain? Did Reaper know this creature from before?

He can’t be sure, but when the door is opened behind him, he turns round and lowers his gaze when his Handler comes into the room with a nasty smirk and something that looks like a control remote on hands.

Reaper has seen it before; he is sure about it, though he doesn’t know what it does. He doesn’t look his Handler in the eye, never. He just nods and waits for his orders. But, this time, Handler doesn’t command anything. He just goes closer to the creature and, after examining it a bit, with a wicked smirk, he pushes a button.

The thing starts moaning and twisting in pain as if it was being electrocuted. Reaper watches it scream and jolt in pain completely merciless, with blank and dead eyes.

“What is your name?” Handler asks when the buzzes stop torturing the creature.

It doesn’t answer, it just remains there. Handler shakes his head and proceeds with his torture one more time. Reaper doesn’t count the times his Handler pushes the button, but when he turns to look at him, Reaper lowers his head again, bowing.

“Look at me,” he listens to his Handler’s order and, though he can’t feel anything, it’s not common for him to lift up his eyes and look at his master straight in the eyes. The Handler smiles and gives him the little control remote. Reaper takes it without any sign of hesitation and gives it a look. “Make it talk,” the man in black states pointing at the twisted figure of the brunet creature still suffering a few meters away from them. 

“Yes, Handler,” Reaper answers in a lifeless tone while hearing his new victim’s panting and sobbing across the cell. And with that, his superior turns round to leave the dark cell, but before he can put a hand on the knob, Reaper dares to interrupt his departure. “I have had memories,” he declares while still holding the control on his right hand.

Handler stays still for a second and then turns with an angry and surprised look on his face.

“What?” He asks getting closer, his features darkening a bit.

“I’ve seen them,” Reaper explains blankly, without any kind of emotion in his dull voice.

“What did you see?” Handler asks, nervous.

“It,” Reaper points at the creature in the floor.

The Handler doesn’t say anything for a brief moment. He seems to be pondering about something; but, suddenly, his surprised and worried expression vanishes and a new and evil one appears across his face.

He takes a few steps towards Reaper and then he draws out a pocketknife. Reaper looks at it completely calm and when his master tears his upper clothing by pulling it, he doesn’t even blink. Then, he watches the blade cutting his flesh and penetrating his shoulder.

Reaper looks at the bleeding wound for a second, wondering what is it that he should do next.

“Do you feel anything?” Handler asks as he withdraws the stained blade.

Reaper shakes his head still looking at the blood that is coming out of the wound.

“No, Handler,” he answers and the smile in his Handler’s face spreads even more.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” he states as he cleans the blood of blade on the black piece of clothing of Reaper, who is still standing with the device on hand. “Do your job,” Handler adds before disappearing through the metallic threshold and closing the heavy door.

Reaper turns to look at the sobbing creature that is lying on the ground. For a moment, it doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, but when Reaper comes closer with the device ready to begin with the torture, it lifts its head again and looks him in the eye.

“What is your name?” Reaper asks the creature who has stopped sobbing.

But, again, there’s no answer. It goes back to its low and incomprehensible mumbles.

“Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts,” it murmurs as it watches Reaper push the button.

The twisting and the pain overwhelm the demented prisoner, who drowns in screams and starts shaking on the floor, trying to escape the torture. Reaper stops the zapping after a few seconds and then, asks the same question again, and when he has no answer at all, more screams of suffering fill the silence of the cell.

Reaper has a job and Reaper will follow his Handler’s order. Reaper _will_ make this creature talk.

***

_???_

It’s been months since Reaper was assigned to this new job. Everyday, almost every hour, he’s spent it in that cell, pushing the button that causes the prisoner to squirm in the most disturbing ways because of the immense pain.

The prisoner has somehow got accustomed to Reaper’s presence and, though he still hasn’t properly finished his task, he has managed to rip some words out of the creature’s mouth.

“What is your name?” Reaper had asked a few weeks ago, and the creature, after a terrible shot of pain, had finally screamed in agony:

“Matthew!!!”

That name echoed in his mind for a long while and it also brought some memories along with it. Memories that Reaper didn’t even know that existed. Again, that same creature appeared inside his head smiling and patting his back: “ _You are my best friend, Dom_ ,” he had said cheerfully.

Reaper suppressed all the memories despite the strange… feeling that had been slowly creeping into his body. He wasn’t supposed to have any feelings at all to begin with. Why was he even concerned about that?

He tried to contain his memories where they were: in a deep corner of his mind, below a dark veil; but, despite all his efforts, whenever the torture ended and he left the cell, all those images and faces haunted him until the following day.

“Wrong,” Reaper had said before pushing the button again and again while his prisoner convulsed in despair at his feet.

The following weeks, “Matthew” was the only word that the creature screamed after the electric shocks stopped. He didn’t even whisper about ghosts anymore. Reaper didn’t know what happened to the creature when he left the room. He didn’t know whether it went through other types of tortures or not. Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. It wasn’t important to him. He just needed to fulfill his purpose.

On one day, just like all the others, he entered the cell with the device ready to begin, but when he opened the door, he didn’t see his prisoner sitting in the corner where he always used to be. This somehow surprised Reaper. Surprised? Since when? Was he even capable of being surprised?

“I know my name,” he heard a low whisper on his left side.

It gave him shudders. And that made him very confused. He had forgotten what it felt like to be scared, to feel anything at all. He didn’t even know he could feel anything at all. When did this sudden change take place? Why was he now starting to feel?

Reaper turned his head and looked at the creature next to him: the injury on his upper lid had already properly healed; his hair and beard were longer and though he was pale as a phantom, his icy-blue eyes had never been this shiny before.

“What is your name?” Reaper asked the same question, still feeling confused.

The man (because now he had stopped being a thing, a mere creature) smirked wickedly while looking him in the eye and leaned over to answer in a grim whisper that made Reaper feel uneasy and nervous:

“Reaper.”

His work was finally done.


End file.
